The Stormreaver
by Faykan
Summary: A tale of demonic manipulation and a warring Alliance trying to defend their world from a rampaging Horde. Thrown into the mix of this world before he could even walk or talk, Infant Harry Potter is placed into the hands of the most powerful Warlock of his people, Darkness Incarnate himself: Gul'dan, chieftain of the Stormreaver Clan.
1. Prologue: In the Dark of the Night

**So, it's hard for me to realize still that ANP is well and truly finished, and yet here we are, at my second fantasy-based (or really, non Star Wars) story's start. Please, launch this one off with a warm reception, and as always, R &R and enjoy! ~F**

 **The Stormreaver**

 **Prologue**

 **In the Dark of the Night**

Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surry, England, October 31st, 1981

On a cold and marginally lit street a slight ways off from the common residents of the little neighborhood of Privet Drive, at the same time that some very mysterious things were happening involving a tall man in a pointed hat and purple robes, a woman with a stern look who could turn into a cat, and a baby with a lightning bolt scar, something else was occurring of a far more sinister nature.

With a small pop, the lights of a little secluded alleyway darkened to nearly nothing, and a tear appeared in the fabric of space. From this little wound formed a tiny gateway into the Twisting Nether, and the far reaches of the cosmos, glowing with the yellow-green of fiendish magic. Suddenly, with a puff of flames, a small horned creature tumbled out of the rift before it sealed itself once again. The tiny creature, no more than the height of a human's knee, shook itself from the perilous voyage through the darkness into which it had been sent, and took a good look at its surroundings, the tiny yellow eyes burning with cunning and mischief.

Lifting its tiny claws arms, the little furred imp cast a spell of scrying, allowing it to see out and around its position, scouting the landscape for any major threats to his master, Lord Kil'jaeden of the Burning Legion. Smiling to itself, the imp, who name was Karham, scampered toward the nearest source of Arcane magic he detected through his spell. He needed absolute proof of his discovery before he dared to return to his masters and report.

For a long time the demon lords of the Burning Legion had watched the cosmos, seeking out ever more worlds to put to the flame, but in particular searching for worlds that had just begun tapping into the powers of the Arcane, so that they could enslave more beings into their service and through them increase their armies and power an hundredfold. Karham, along with many other agents of the Eredar Lord, Kil'jaeden the Deceiver, were thusly sent out across the Twisted Nether to seek out worlds ripe for the Legion's manipulations to devour.

And what this little one had discovered seemed to be, while not some priceless jewel to add to the Legion's crown of conquests, a land worthy of at least some note.

Darting silently toward the source of magic, Karham did his best to hide the fel flames that dripped off his small body as he drew close to the place, which turned out to be another nondescript street, except with all the lights extinguished and two creatures on it conversing. Through his own diligent study of the languages of many worlds, Karham could understand these humans quite well, and was able to spy on what they thought was a private conversation with ease.

"A letter?" the female was saying as Karham came into listening range, "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous… a legend… I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future… there will be books written about Harry… every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," the older, white haired male named Dumbledore replied, "it would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Karham wasn't sure exactly what the two humans were talking about, but whoever this 'Harry' person was, they were of great importance to these people. The little demon continued to spy on the two mages until he was distracted by a rumbling sound that was coming from the sky.

Looking up, the little demonic creature flinched as what looked like a dragon thundered down and skid to a halt near the two humans. Blinking the beady yellow eyes, Karham realized that it wasn't a dragon, but some sort of contraption that bore a massive rider, who dismounted and strode over to the two mages with a small bundle.

"Hagrid," the man named Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

Karham heard the words they were speaking, but he was not listening. The little demon was focused on the bundle that the massive being was holding, its contents brimming with powerful magic. Whatever it was, it would be something that the Lords of the Burning Legion would want. Some lost artifact of great power perhaps, or a tome of forgotten lore? Regardless, it would mean a great deal to the improvement of Karham's rewards to present that much magical energy to his masters.

Soon the older male wizard took the bundle from the massive being, and approached one of the boring and quite nonmagical buildings. Karham almost laughed out loud as the old man just left the powerful item on the doorstep, before turning and leaving. The other pair waited for the old man, and after more unimportant chatter between then, one by one they departed.

Lastly, the old man looked back at the bundle on the doorstep, muttered to himself, and teleported away with a swish of his cloak. The tiny imp waited several moments to make sure he was alone, before darting out of his hiding place, and across the strange stone-like road to the bundle in front of the ordinary dwelling.

Peering inside, the imp was quickly disappointed when he found that the bundle only contained a human infant. The tiny creature was peacefully sleeping, a small piece of folded parchment tucked in with the baby.

Karham couldn't read the human's pathetic excuse for a written language however, so the note was worthless to him. The child on the other hand, could be possibly used, if at the least as magic heavy food for the personal felhunters of his master.

Snatching the bundle in his magically enhanced arms, the imp scampered away from the house, looking for a secluded place that he could summon one of his master's high ranking agents. Finding a darkened side street quite easily, Karham set aside the little infant male and went to work, calling upon what dark powers he had been granted by the demon lords, and reaching through the Twisted Nether to guide one of his superiors to this place.

A faint light appeared, creating a magical circle of demonic runes, and from within the portal emerged the tall, winged, horned form of a Nathrezim, one of the powerful agents of the Legion.

"Lord Mephistroth," Karham said with a respectful bow. This particular Dreadlord was the third in power and influence of the Nathrezim, and one of Lord Kil'jaeden's chief servants.

"You've called on me, little imp, and I have come," the vampiric demon said, "I trust that you have something of worth to present to me and our masters…"

"Oh of course great one, of course…" Karham said, almost groveling at the far greater demon. Presenting the little crib with the magical baby, the imp was nearly shunted aside as Mephistroth stepped closer and bent lower to examine the male child. The Nathrezim pulled the small parchment envelope from the bundles of cloth, using his long claws to open the note and scanning it quickly.

Karham was surprised to learn that the other demon could actually read the human's script. Looking up hopefully, he smirked as the Nathrezim chuckled darkly, tearing the note to pieces. "It is of no consequence." He commented lazily, but continued to watch the sleeping child, "the boy however could prove to be most useful to the Legion…"

Raising a hand, Mephistroth levitated the child, still wrapping in the blankets and settled in the small basket. Reaching forward a long talon-like claw, the Nathrezim gently stroked the pudgy face, careful to not harm or awaken the child. "Such raw magical power in one so young is rare. However… humans take a long time to grow and mature, and there is simply no time for any among the Legion to safety take up that task."

The Dreadlord was silent for several moments, clearly contemplating the situation, and Karham almost interrupted, but knew the punishment for such an offense should he do so.

"Ah..." Mephistroth said at last, "I know the perfect hosts to place this young one, until the boy is ready that is..." smiling wickedly at the slumbering baby, the Nathrezim continued, "oh yes, they'll be the perfect trainers to teach this boy all about the powers of the Twisted Nether, while instilling discipline and unwavering loyalty to the Legion..."

Turning back to the magic circle that Karham had used to bring the great demon here, Mephistroth commanded the imp, "tell none of this world, and continue with your objectives, I will take this matter on, personally..."

Without another word, the Dreadlord took the baby, basket and all, and stepped back into the portal to the Twisting Nether. Karham giggled wickedly as he leapt in afterward, grateful to not have to remain on the pitiful world any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruins of Stormwind Keep, Eastern Kingdoms, Azeroth

Gul'dan, once leader of the Shadow Council and secret master of the orcish race, looked out over the destruction that had befallen the human nation of Stormwind, elation at the accomplishments of his Horde mixing poorly with the bitter taste of humiliation at his loss of control over it.

Ever since Kil'jaeden, the Beautiful One that his old master Ner'zhul had originally contacted, left them with no word, Gul'dan had scrambled to find some outlet for the rampaging Horde's ferocity. That was when _he_ came into the grand Warlock's dreams: the human magi Medivh, who had information regarding Sargeras, master over even the demon lords of the Burning Legion.

Apparently, the world on which Medivh resided was also the location of the fabled Tomb of Sargeras, wherein lay the power of the Dark God. It was a prize far too tempting for Gul'dan to pass up on. As part of their deal, Medivh gave Gul'dan the knowledge to build the Portal, in exchange for the Horde's martial might in overthrowing the nations of humans that inhabited the world of Azeroth.

A purpose paved before them, the orcs had leapt at the chance, Gul'dan's warlocks poured hours into constructing the portal, and opened the way for their great conquest. They had overrun the humans, destroying all in their path toward the great city of the closest kingdom. Stormwind Keep.

But not everything went according to Gul'dan's master plan. On the eve of their great victory, Medivh was betrayed by his fellow humans, and even as Gul'dan reached into the dying sorcerer's mind for the location of the Tomb of Sargeras, the man was killed, causing the orcish warlock to fall into a deep coma for many weeks.

Upon his awakening however, he learned the sad truth that he, and the entire Shadow Council, had been betrayed by the new Warchief of the Horde, Ogrim Doomhammer. Unwilling to share power like his predecessor, Blackhand, Doomhammer had rushed in and slew many of the Shadow Council, and nearly all of the Horde's warlocks before Gul'dan could intervene.

A paltry few now survived, Gul'dan himself being among them, and they were 'humbled' into submission to their new leader, even as the horde prepared for a new offensive into the northern regions of this world, and the other human, elven, and dwarven kingdoms that lay in wait for them.

As he stood upon a rise of mountains overlooking the destruction of the human city, Gul'dan tensed as he felt a flare of demonic magic behind him. Turning sharply, the orc narrowed his eyes as a large demon with horns and wings walked out of the Nether toward Gul'dan.

"Calm yourself Warlock…" the demon said smoothly, "I am Mephistroth."

"I know of your kind, Dreadlord…" Gul'dan replied, "You serve Kil'jaeden…"

"Yes," the Nathrezim affirmed, "however, I am not here regarding my master… I have a gift; I source of great power that may assist you in your upcoming invasion…"

Gul'dan froze, wondering how much of his and Medivh's plans were already aware of by the demon lord. Choosing to ignore the quip and shifted to focus on the small basket that the vampiric demon was carrying.

Mephistroth saw the orc looking at the bundle and smirked. Setting the bundle on the ground, the demon turned back to the Nether rift that it emerged from and started to walk away, "Just be sure to not kill it too quickly…" he added cryptically before vanishing completely.

Gul'dan watched the spot where the Nathrezim vanished for several moments, before motion from the small basket caught his attention.

"What the…" he said curiously, striding forward and leaning over to investigate. A small, pink creature was squirming inside a wrapping of cloth. It was a human baby boy. The little thing opened its emerald eyes, blinking up at Gul'dan before yawning loudly.

"What could be a prized gift of a simply human runt?" Gul'dan wondered aloud as he reached a hand closer to the child. The little boy grabbed the Warlock's long finger with a small pudgy hand, completely unafraid of him, which slightly amused Gul'dan. Fearlessness was a trait that he could respect. Only when the little baby sneezed, and a moderately powerful gust of wind was kicked up in response did the warlock detect the true gift that the demon was referring to.

The child was magical in nature, far different from any of the orc shaman of old or even the newly trained warlocks. This child played with the cosmic powers on a whim, whereas the orcish spell casters had to pull and twist at the powers that were, or in the case of shaman beg and plead for aid, until they were answered. But this… this child was special.

Reaching forward, far more interested than before, Gul'dan lifted the child from the basket, noting how incredibly small and fragile the boy was. The orcs had once, back when the warlocks were plentiful and trusted, utilized the practice of rapidly advancing the aging process of their warriors by magic, and for a moment Gul'dan was tempted to use the same power on this human child, but he hesitated. What would the spell's reaction to the boy's internal magic possibly result in? Was it worth the risk of having his potentially greatest tool and weapon damaged to save several years worth of time caring for the baby until the human was old enough to fend for himself?

Gul'dan had never dealt with younglings before, and he personally had no patience for that sort of child rearing, but in the end he decided that toying with the unknown where it came with this child wouldn't be the safest course of action.

Turning back to the ruined city, where his clan of Stormreavers awaited his return, Gul'dan began the short hike down from the rise of rocks. He would pawn the boy off to one of the female to nurture until he was old enough to begin teaching, with strict orders for the boy to live. Then he would have an apprentice that was beyond any being in the Horde, and by the time their beloved Warchief was at his weakest, the perfect weapon that would destroy him, return the Horde under Gul'dan's control, and assist Gul'dan in taking the power of the Dark Titan for himself.

"Well, little one," Gul'dan said softly to the baby boy, "You're going to assist me in doing great things…"


	2. C1: First Steps

**So, rather annoying that we cannot submit our chapters the normal way, but nevertheless I will provide as I am able, even if it means using the Copy/Paste feature to get my chapters online on time! I am very excited to have received so many reviews for the prologue, and hope that the same enthusiasm pressing on through the first chapter as well. With that said, enjoy!**

 **Chapter One**

 **First Steps**

Gul'dan was beyond furious.

Not only were his personal forces greatly diminished from Doomhammer's assault of the Shadow Council, leaving him with merely a handful of initiate Necrolytes, aside from his personal lieutenant, the ogre mage Cho'gall, but in addition he lacked even Garona's usefulness in dealing with the squalling human brat. It wasn't safe to just leave the child alone with any of his servants, who would fail to see the relevance of the child and slaughter it without question, and with the near random magical disturbances that happened around the child on a near daily occurrence, it was too dangerous to simply leave the child alone in his tent, where his enchantments would spell death for any intruder.

Even now, with the comical image of the massive, two headed ogre carefully cradling the infant, Gul'dan was losing patience in being able to focus on the problem of the demanded magical warriors that Doomhammer expected him to create.

"Feed him, Cho'gall, before I lose my mind to the incessant screaming," Gul'dan demanded, and the ogre blundered for a mere moment as he fetched a skin of milk, plundered from the ransacking of the keep. Large enough to hold the child comfortably in one hand, Cho'gall slipped the nip of the skin into the baby's mouth, hefting the sack so that the child could freely drink on its own, and the boy silenced immediately, sucking contentedly as excess liquid dribbled down the pudgy cheeks.

As the child greedily ate, Cho'gall turned to Gul'dan "Why is this human brat so important Gul'dan," one head asked, "Is it being prepared for a powerful sacrifice?" the other added.

Gul'dan paused, his brilliant mind spinning at the mention of the word 'sacrifice'. Of course, that was the answer to at least one of his problems. "No, Cho'gall, but I do believe a sacrifice is in order to appease Doomhammer and provide him his warriors. The Necrolytes have served their purpose, and now they shall be given a new one, even greater than before. When the child is finished, give him to me and gather our implements."

When the two-headed ogre mage departed, Gul'dan watched the now quite content child squirm in his hands. His servant could not see it, but this child's power was immense, but in the baby's current state it was unrefined and utterly wasted in purpose. However, there may be a way to use the child in amplifying the ritual to an even greater level.

"What a wondrous tool you are, little one." Gul'dan said with a chuckle as the baby burped loudly from drinking the milk too fast. The Warlock realized that eventually he would have to give the baby a name, but orcish tradition didn't usually name a youngling until they were certain of its survival, after about three winters. But that was how things had been done on Draenor, where the climate was a trial in of itself. Here the weather was more mild, less likely to kill the boy from strong cold winds, so Gul'dan could reasonably dispense with the old tradition.

A human name would probably have been most appropriate, but Gul'dan wanted the child to know that his loyalty was first and foremost to the orchish warlock himself. Staring at the boy's frighteningly green eyes, Gul'dan found himself drawn to name the baby Nobu'tan. Odd though it would be, to give a human a name that would better fit one of the Far Seers of old, but nevertheless Gul'dan felt that little Nobu'tan had great potential to guide their people into a new and prosperous future, under Gul'dan's leadership of course.

Gathering the babe in his arms, Gul'dan departed for the ritual site. Cho'gall had done his work well, lining up the bodies of slain human knights around a hastily constructed altar. Beside it was another pedestal, this one much smaller, and worked into a basket-like carrier. Gul'dan set the baby in this second plinth, where he would be fully accessible and viewable to the entire ritual.

Soon, drawn by their own curiosity rather than Gul'dan's summons, the other Necrolytes joined then, standing around the central altar and more than once observing little Nobu'tan with disdain.

Rakmar, the proclaimed leader of the remnant of lesser warlocks glanced around at the fallen knights, and guessed their purpose, although Gul'dan could tell that they all were still uncertain about the purpose of the babe or the altar itself. Let them guess, by the time they realized it would be far too late.

"We are summoning our fallen brethren?" Rakmar asked softly, almost reverently at the idea.

"Yes," Gul'dan replied, focusing intently on the incantation he would need to perform. "Doomhammer may have slaughtered the other warlocks, but their souls linger. We will summon them and instill them in human bodies," he grinned as he commented, "They will be eager to return to this world and serve the Horde once more."

Rakmar nodded, understanding that much of the ritual, "That will animate them." he agreed, "but will it give them power? Or will they be little more than walking corpses?"

"Silence!" Gul'dan commanded, forestalling other questions. Rakmar was getting too close too fast to the true purpose behind the ritual, "We begin!"

Summoning his magic to him, Gul'dan immediately began the ritual, filling himself it the chaotic power that Kil'jaeden had blessed him with so long ago. It wasn't nearly enough power yet, but that would change very soon. For the moment Gul'dan focused on channeling his energies into the main altar before them all, and he smiled widely as he felt the human baby's natural magic drift in as well, aiding strength unknowingly by the boy's mere presence.

Rakmar and the other necrolytes joined in, lending their own necromantic magic to the incantation. Once they had done so, it would be most difficult for them to focus on anything else, and therefore they did not notice that Gul'dan had moved from his position until it was too late.

Stalking slowly to position himself behind Rakmar, Gul'dan pulled from his robes a curved dagger. Unable to stop a growl of escaping his lips, the grand warlock lashed out with the blade, catching the surprised Necrolyte fully across the throat. Blood arced out, splattering he pair of them, and Rakmar toppled back onto the altar itself, and Gul'dan leapt upon him to prevent the orc from trying to escape.

The dagger was immediately sunken into Rakmar's chest, ripping over the chest cavity, and Gul'dan quickly plunged a clawed hand inside to remove the still beating heart. Casting the spell he had prepared, Gul'dan watched as his and a portion of Nobu'tan's magical powers enveloped the organ and ripped Rakmar's spirit from his body and trapped it within the heart. If that was not enough, then the magic of the altar activated, reshaping the bloody organ into something more useful, shrinking and hardening it and granting an unnatural luster. As the Necrolyte fell to rise no more, Gul'dan grinned down at the small glowing gem in his hands.

Glancing up, he spotted that Cho'gall had already killed several more of the Necrolytes, transforming their hearts and souls in like manner. The rest were cowering pitifully, their magic still caught in the air around the altar, unable to flee and too weak and afraid to fight. They were worthless to Gul'dan like this, but it did make things easier for the pair of powerful warlocks to slaughter the weaklings. Soon they would all be warriors at heart, with the souls of dead warlocks to guide their necromantic magic.

Looking down at the gem from Rakmar, Gul'dan smiled. Doomhammer would be pleased with his undead warriors, and Gul'dan would have his shadow council back, after a manner of speaking.

Walking over to Nobu'tan, Gul'dan watched in amusement as the little baby stared back with wide, confused eyes. there was a small splatter of blood on the baby's head, near the strangely magical scar, but instead of frightened by all the loud noises ritual magic, the boy was only concerned and curious.

'Yes,' Gul'dan thought, 'the boy would make a valuable apprentice…'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teron Gorefiend, once the orc warlock Teron'gore, looked on as his mentor Gul'dan effectively played with a human child. The cold, calculating Death Knight knew of the warlock's plans for the boy, and his unnatural magical power, but it was difficult to get over the fact that the child was one of their enemies. And sworn to Doomhammer or not, in his cold dead heart Teron no longer cared for the Horde, or their plans for world domination.

He wanted more, some scent of power that he and his fellow undead warriors could call their own. If he could acquire the power of portal magic from Gul'dan, the way would be open for the Death Knights to find their own world to reshape into an undead paradise. But the paranoid warlock kept that knowledge a secret, sharing it with no one, and all those who worked on the portal directly were slain within hours of its completion.

The orc warlock was currently attempting to begin teaching his youngest apprentice the ways of demonic magic, and although the human runt was merely four or five winters old, Teron had to admit the boy was a quick learner. The child had already succeeded with conjuring shadow power from the Twisted Nether within his first session, something that had taken Teron almost a month to accomplish, and fashioning it into a bolt of devastating power.

Currently, the grand warlock was trying to teach little 'Nobu'tan' the proper method of summoning his first demon. "Nobu'tan, reach out into the Nether with your magic, radiate a call to service through the void, and keep the tether open until something makes contact…" Gul'dan instructed, the little imp that he himself had summon scampering around his ankles as the small human sat and attempted to imitate when the orc warlock had achieved.

"I feel something…" the child said shakily, still working to master the orcish tongue.

"Good…" Gul'dan coaxed, being far gentler with the child than Teron had ever remembered the ruthless master of the Horde acting. "Now lead the creature back here, to the summoning circle, and allow it to materialize."

It didn't take long before the circle flared to life, ejecting green flames as the tiny horned body of an imp leapt out, fire in its eyes as it looked upon the human child. "Woah!" the creature sputtered disrespectfully, "I thought there had to have been some sort of party, with all the magic being throw at me, and I show up to find a runt of a warlock, how boring!"

"Silence worm," Gul'dan threatened, much as he had with the imp he had summoned himself. "Speak your name so my apprentice can call you in future."

The imp studied the human boy for a moment, before shrugging. "Name's Quzkol, pleased to meet'cha, can we burn something now?"

The boy laughed, colder than Teron expected. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to overlook the child's race if he proved to be a powerful warlock. Stepping forward, he addressed Gul'dan. "Doomhammer has summoned us to assist the final push into Kaz Modan, their warriors are having great difficulty in breaking the lines of the dwarves there."

"Great!" the imp Quzkol stated, hopping up and down gleefully, "when do we leave?"

Staring down at the wretch with his growing red eyes, Teron was ready to declare that neither the imp nor his child master would be needed, but Gul'dan spoke first. "Soon, little demon, it'll take time for us all to travel from this place to the boarders of Kaz Modan, but then you will have your precious bloodshed…"

The imp cheered, before hopping up onto the human boy's shoulders, looping the fiendish tail around the pale neck for balance, and the three of them started back to the grand warlock's tent. Teron was surprised that the small human could keep up with them, as well as the fact that he did not whine or complain when the terrain grew difficult, merely pushed on like any orcish child would have been expected to.

He most certainly had misjudged the child, and would not make the same mistake again when it came to the humans or their resilience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ogrim Doomhammer gazed angrily across the bland expanse before him that separated his warriors from the Dwarven territory. Called the Badlands from several maps captured from Stormwind Keep, the desolate landscape in of itself wasn't something of a problem to cross, but inhabitants were more of a problem.

Since the taking of Blackrock Mountain nearly a year ago, the dwarves that once inhabited the region had been forced to flee, crossing the mountains to the far side of the volcanic area, and retreating through a small, heavily defended gatehouse that led to the dwarves' capitol of Ironforge.

So many efforts had been wasted trying to take that tiny post and the even heavier guarded valley beyond it, that Ogrim had determined to send more warriors around the long way of the mountains and find a pass to come around on the opposite side of the valley. Unfortunately, the dwarves they had just evicted and chased had apparently thought the same idea, and had already constructed a fortress to prevent the Horde from moving any further around the mountains. Without access to Kaz Modan, the Horde would never have enough fuel to create their armada and sail up to the lands of Lorderon.

Zhulud and his dragon were not ready to be of use either, nor were the Dragonmaw warriors accessible, having long ago departed to the far side of this pass, to a fortress called Grim Batol, where they held their esteemed prisoner.

This left the Warchief of the Horde with really only one option, and it was one that he did not enjoy to use. He had sent for Gul'dan. The wily warlock would have some magical answer for this problem, and even though Ogrim trusted Gul'dan no further then he could throw the old orc, he had little choice if he wanted to achieve the Horde's vision of conquest.

When the warlock finally deemed it pertinent to arrive however, the great Warchief was confused to see a tiny creature following in the orcs footsteps. No demon, nor even an orc, but a human child, clad in robes that were blazed with the symbols of Gul'dan's clan, the Stormreavers. Bringing up the rear of the group was the massive ogre, Cho'Gall.

At least something useful was accomplished, Ogrim thought as he spied Teron Gorefiend in the mix of warriors that had arrived with the warlocks. Two more clans had arrived to bolster his warriors. "You sent for me, mighty Doomhammer," Gul'dan said, the last of respect literally dripping from the lying tongue.

"Yes," Ogrim replied, irritated that he had to do this. "The dwarves are proving far more resilient that we had expected, and their defensive structures are most impressive. I require your talents if we are to push through their line and conquer the lands beyond them."

Gul'dan turned to look out across the Badlands, spotting the small rise of the fortress the Dwarves had hastily constructed. "There may be a way, Warchief," Gul'dan stated, pulling at his massive beard.

"Explain it then, warlock…" Ogrim stated, having no time or patience for the traitor's cryptic nonsense. Gul'dan must have sensed this as well, because he ceased all snide comments, merely turning to the other two with him for a few moments to discuss the warlock's plan. Ogrim was curious to understand what the orc thought he could gain from the counsel of a tiny human runt, no more four winters old at the best, but Gul'dan turned back to him before the Warchief could question it.

"It is agreed," the warlock said, "we shall decoy the dwarves into taking in some of our strongest warriors, thinking them human refugees, who will then annihilate them all once inside their fortress."

It was indeed a better plan than Ogrim could have hoped for, "How do you intend to get the dwarves to agree? Surely there aren't enough of out elite warriors that speak their tongue or even the human tongue well enough to be convincing…"

"That, will not be a problem," Gul'dan said, smirking as he placed a clawed hand gently on the human child's head. The boy smirked likewise at the old orc's touch, and Ogrim felt a keen unnaturalness about the child, like some horrific creature lurked just inside the human skin, not unlike the Death Knights.

"One of your creations, I presume Gul'dan," Ogrim questioned, frowning at the little being.

"After a manner of speaking," Gul'dan replied, smiling at the flash of irritation that blew across Ogrim's face at not receiving a clear answer to his question. "Rest assured that the fortress will fall within the week, and the Horde can move on to greener pastures…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan smiled happily as his master led him across the barren wasteland to the edge of the dwarven fortress. He might have been only five winters old, but through enchantment and grueling trial he was more than intelligent enough to understand much of the world around him. The dwarves were preventing the Horde from moving further up the continent, and had to be eliminated, for which task Nobu'tan had been volunteered by Gul'dan.

For his part, Nobu'tan was most pleased to be so trusted by his mentor. Gul'dan and Cho'gall had already selected the strongest and fiercest warriors of both the Stormreaver and Twilight Hammer clans, both of which were under strict orders to bring no harm to Nobu'tan. He was well aware that he was not an orc, but one of the humans that they sought to fight against, but it was Gul'dan that raised him, not some human mother and father, and regardless if they had been slain in the fall of Stormwind or not, Gul'dan had made the choice to raise him, showing more compassion than to any other creature that Nobu'tan saw.

And if Gul'dan, mightiest warlock of the Horde cared enough about him to look past his failing by being born human, than Nobu'tan would take it at that and ask no more.

Gone were his fine robes with spells and enchantments, safely left back at camp in his master's tent. Nobu'tan wore rags that had been scavenged from the many human encampments throughout the southern region. Due to his small size and rather frail appearance, it was easy to believe that the dwarves would take pity on him, rather than kill him on the spot.

Staggering a bit to make the act seem genuine, Nobu'tan drew within sight of the fortress guards, and froze as shouts in the dwarven tongue started to sound in his ears. He wasn't remotely familiar with the language as he was with orcish or even the human common, so as the metal doors groaned open and several burly dwarven warriors emerged, he shied back a few steps.

That, combined with his rather pitiful appearance, seemed to make the dwarves second guess his as any sort of threat. The one in the lead, who wore a larger helmet and breastplate, walked right up to Nobu'tan, and began speaking in the dwarven language to him. Being roughly the same height as the dwarf, Nobu'tan could pick out a few select words that he was saying, but overall it was a jumbled mess of unknown, and eventually the warrior gave up, signaling with his hands for Nobu'tan to follow them inside.

The orc raised human looked wildly around the moment they entered, noticing that all the other warriors stayed at the main gate, which clearly meant that he was not considered to be any sort of threat to their secrets or defenses. Normally, they would have been right, but Nobu'tan wasn't an ordinary human child.

The lead guardsman took Nobu'tan gently by the hand and led him through the fortress as it burrowed underground, eventually stopping in a wide room well under the surface. The dwarven leader was a meticulous looking sort, with fierce eyes and a black beard on his darker face. The dwarf's armor and weapons were piled on a nearby table, while another; older dwarf lingered nearby in dull looking robes.

The lead guard and the leader started to converse, but Nobu'tan had no idea what they were discussing, aside from the obvious with the number of gestures and glances being sent at him. Apparently the leader was not of the opinion that they ought to have allowed Nobu'tan entrance to their fortress, wisely so, but it was already too late for that.

Soon, the irritated looking leader gestured for Nobu'tan to approach, and the robed dwarf stepped forward as well. "So laddie, we hear that you were found wanderin' out in the badlands. Care to tell us how ye got lost out in the part of the world?" the dwarf said in near perfect common.

Nobu'tan worked hard to not reflexively stiffen. He had hoped that none of the dwarves knew the common language, but now that he had been addressed, he had to speak.

"I…I don't know, sir. I was with my family, running from the evil creatures, and we wound up near here. I was playing, and got lost… I just wanna go home…" Nobu'tan acted, allowing real tears to start forming in his eyes.

The dwarves, even the surly leader, all noticeably melted at the slight amount of childish whining, but were clearly angered at the thought of orcs driving humans through these lands. The leader, after hearing the translation from his advisor, turned and barked orders at the lead guardsman, probably to send out search parties to find the band of 'humans', Nobu'tan guessed.

"Don' ye worry a bit, lad." The advisor said as the leader stormed away himself, "We'll help ya find your family, even help them git out of this here wilderness. Dem orcs are a right menace to all us folk, and if we don' band together, well…" the dwarf trailed off for a moment, seemingly torn over speaking of such outcomes to a child.

"Ye can just rest here while we search for ye family, youngun. You've probably had a long day, and are dehydrated at the least. I'll have someone bring down some food and drink for ye." The dwarf added, moving toward the door. Nobu'tan pretended to settle down in a chair far too big for him as the dwarf softly shut the door, but bolted up again once he was alone.

Gul'dan, Cho'gall and the others would be found quickly, and lead back to this place. It wouldn't do for them to become lost in plundering all the important secrets of the dwarven fortress, so Nobu'tan needed to do a bit of sneaking about himself.

Reaching out into the Twisted Nether, Nobu'tan called Quzkol to his side once again, and the little imp danced about merrily to be somewhere new and exciting, and flammable.

Easing open the door to the leader's room, Nobu'tan peered outside, smirking when he saw no one nearby. He had no idea which way he was going or what might be there, but exploring something was better than just waiting around for his Master.

Darting off in a direction, Nobu'tan stealthily hid in shadows and peered around corners until he found a door that he felt like opening. It was heavy, and didn't give easily, but with a bit of effort, Nobu'tan managed to creek the rusty door open enough to squeeze inside.

Within lay some sort of dwarven library, scrolls and tomes piled high along the far wall, while a desk and chair were settled in the very center of the room, facing back towards the door. Glancing around quickly, Nobu'tan spotted two major facts. First, that there were several chests lining one wall, one of which was open with gold and jewels visible from where he stood.

The second, and probably more important of the two, was that he was no longer alone here. "Oi lad, what'd'ya think you're doing in here?" the old advisor said, more concerned than angry at Nobu'tan, but he did not care at this time.

The dwarf might have seen Quzkol, or if not, he would shortly, and so Nobu'tan quickly attacked, releasing a black of dark chaotic energy at the dwarf. The imp took this as his signal to attack as well, and unleashed a pair of miniature fireballs, each of which also impacted the dwarf, who fell noisily to the ground.

Nobu'tan froze for moments after the dwarf fell. Not only was this really his first kill, but he was afraid that someone might have heard him and come investigate. When no one did however, the orc raised human let out a sigh of relief.

Quzkol on the other hand, was ecstatic, "Wow! What a rush! Let's find another one to kill, come on can we? Please, oh please?"

Silencing the imp's bloodlust with a wave of his hand, Nobu'tan stained his ears. Far above them, he heard something, like a distant rumble or the sound of thunder. "I do believe," he said after a moment of silence, "That Master Gul'dan has arrived…"

Looking around the room quickly, Nobu'tan searched for anything of value to take before making his escape to the attacking warriors above. Nothing in the room was readable to him, as it was all in the great dwarven runic script. Making a note to learn to read it later, Nobu'tan snatched a pair of tomes that felt magical in nature, as well as a large scroll that had been rolled out on the desk when he entered. It looked like a map of the southern part of Kaz Modan, with lines drawn upon it for troop maneuvers. Doomhammer would appreciate being aware of his enemies plans.

As he made his way back to the door, Nobu'tan spotted one last thing for himself to take. Lying innocently on a chair next to the door was a rather small cloak, somewhat too small for even Nobu'tan to wear, but poking out of one of the pockets was a straight wooden object that pulsed with some magical power. Happily snatching the wand with one hand, Nobu'tan checked to make sure that none had come out into the hallway while he was pillaging the room.

Thankfully, it seemed that everyone in the base was preoccupied with the surprise attack to even remember him, so it was with little effort that Nobu'tan started to make his way back to the stairs leading to the surface, his precious treasures bouncing with each step.

When he finally reached the topmost landing, which he presumed was the ground floor, there was chaos, dwarves were running in every direction, but very few spared him even a glance before hurrying on to fighting the attacking orcs of the Stormreaver and Twilight Hammer clans.

Grabbing a length of rope as he passed, Nobu'tan peered out of a widow, realizing that he had gone up slightly too high, and was now a good twenty feet above the ground, with a fiery fortress beneath him.

Securing the rope, Nobu'tan threw it out of the window, watching it unfurl and bounce against the stone sides as it fell. Thankfully, Dwarves made their ropes long and firm, and it reached comfortably close to the ground for Nobu'tan to feel safe enough to climb down it.

From behind him, Nobu'tan heard the gruff voices of dwarves, and before they could draw closer, he swung out of the window, letting the rope slide neatly between his hands as he scaled down the sheer side of the wall.

Outside, several burly orcish warriors, now devoid of their human illusions, waited with a mighty catapult, looking eagerly at the fortress as they waited for word to level it with the siege weapon. Among them was Gul'dan himself. Spotting his master, Nobu'tan ran to him, smiling widely at his success. The warriors, members of the Stormreavers themselves, didn't even blink as the human child ran up to their chieftain. They knew the suffering that awaited anyone who tried to harm the warlock's apprentice.

"I hope your mission was successful, Nobu'tan." Gul'dan stated, looking at the collected items that the little human child held awkwardly in his hands. Nobu'tan smiled, pulling the scroll from among them and handing it to his master.

Gul'dan unfurled the battle map of the dwarves, and smiled widely. "Very good, apprentice, this will be more useful to our 'esteemed' Warchief, and allow us to move away from front line duty."

Addressing the grunts, Gul'dan continued, "When Cho'gall and the Twilight Hammer have had their fun, level the fortress, then return to camp. We're going on ahead to present this to Doomhammer."

"Yes chieftain," the orc warrior grunted in unison.

Scampering after his master, Nobu'tan felt the rush of adrenalin start to fade as they moved further from the battle, and smirked as the orcish warlock patted his messy hair gently, "you've done well for your first mission. In time you will be better prepared for such tasks, but this was an excellent first step. With luck Doomhammer will leave us alone for a while so we may continue your training without interruption."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cho'gall, ogre magi and chieftain of the destructive Twilight's Hammer Clan, smirked evilly as the catapults leveled the dwarven base that he and his warriors had slaughtered hours ago. The chaos and blood were more than enough to keep himself, along with the warriors that had earned the honor of attending, sated for a good while yet, which was perfect for their needs to stay focused on the goal of moving up through the dwarven lands to the green fields of the northern human nations.

Despite having two heads, Cho'gall was keenly of one mind in most matters, from fighting to leading his clan, but there was one large matter where even he, with his view of the power of the Twisted Nether thanks to Gul'dan, disagreed; the human runt, Nobu'tan.

One head's thought was the he ought to be pleased that there was another of great power and potential for his master to train, and by extension for himself to influence, but the other was concerned that Gul'dan would choose this little mongrel over himself one day, and Cho'gall would be cast aside.

Each had excellent points on the matter, and in the privacy of his own tent he had debated the topic more than once for hours, but still came to no certified consensus. It was maddening at times, especially in cases like now, with the tiny human having summoned his first demon, and being rewarded with an important task within an assault that could have been much quicker to do without the boy's interference.

But Gul'dan had insisted that the bratty human whelp had to be given the chance to prove himself, and delayed their attack until the dwarven warriors had come, thinking that they would find human survivors, but instead found the most elite warriors of the two clans.

And while even Cho'gall could agree that the boy had done well in bringing back battle plans from the fortress, it seemed unnecessary when they could have taken the fortress and claimed the same plans without his subterfuge.

One head, ever the optimist, wondered if Gul'dan had suspected something that Cho'gall himself was missing, and they actually had needed the boy to be able to defeat the dwarves' fortress, but once again he couldn't be sure. Whenever the boy was involved things got so complicated, and it was hurting Cho'gall's two heads to think about it for long.

When the fortress was finally rubble, Cho'gall marshaled the warriors and sent them back to camp, while he himself made his way to where Gul'dan had had his own tent placed. The grand warlock was present, along with the brat, perusing the two tomes that the boy had also retrieved from the dwarven fortress, while the brat fiddled with a wand at the orc warlock's feet.

"Ah, Cho'gall, your timing is perfect." Gul'dan said as the ogre magi approached. "Young Nobu'tan is ready for his next lessons, but I am otherwise preoccupied making whether there is something worthwhile to us in these tomes. You teach him…"

If Cho'gall was torn before, this brought it to a whole new level. The child smiled up at the two headed ogre, eager to learn something and studying the much larger creature's every move.

"As you command, Master," Cho'gall said obediently, leading the human whelp a short ways away from the grand warlock so they had unhindered space to cast. Remembering back to his earliest lessons, Cho'gall thought it might be best, seeing where the boy's progress was, to teach him how to bend reality to corrupt the internal organs of a chosen target, for a time.

Picking several large boulders as decent targets, one head lectured the concept in simple terms for the child to understand, while the other directed his will at the rocks, willing their insides to start rotting away. This ability skimmed the line of necromancy, but it was most effective when facing a large assortment of skilled warriors, allowing the caster to heavily hinder one target, and focus on the others for more painful spells.

What caught the ogre mage by surprise was how quickly Nobu'tan was on the uptake. With only being shown the spell twice and after one failed attempt on his own, the human managed the spell perfectly, quickly turning a smaller rock to muddy residue through the corrupting influence of the Nether.

Nodding in congratulations, albeit begrudgingly, Cho'gall started naming off object near them for the boy to practice on, steadily choosing larger and larger things to test how powerful the boy's spell was. Impressively, only things the size of Cho'gall himself were largely unaffected by the boy's corruption spell. He would indeed become a powerful warlock, perhaps even strong enough to defeat Gul'dan.

Naturally, a simple rock or plant wouldn't be as difficult as a moving, living opponent, but for his age and size, Cho'gall was suitably pleased with how well Nobu'tan picked up the raw destructive magic of the warlock.

Unfortunately, their time was short, as Gul'dan quickly finished with the two tomes, and called for both of them to follow him to the tent of the Warchief, so they could deliver the message of their success and the battle plans that had been captured.

Cho'gall did not care for Doomhammer. The orc had a wiliness about him that put off the ogre mage, and the fact that he betrayed a close friend, the former Warchief Blackhand, did not speak well of his trustworthiness or loyalty. Granted, he had done so only to put an end to the reigning power of the Shadow Council, of whom only Gul'dan and Cho'gall himself now remained, discounting Teron'gor and the other warlocks who were turned into Death Knights.

Still, it wouldn't bode well for the Twilight Hammer Chieftain to go about mentioning these facts, so he kept both mouths firmly shut when in the Warchief's presence, and all was well.

Cho'gall was keenly aware that Gul'dan sought a great power that was hidden here in this world, and that it had something to do with the sea, otherwise why would the warlock be so supportive of Doomhammer's plan to gather fuel from the dwarven lands and attack the Northern Kingdoms by water. It was interesting, but with Nobu'tan around Cho'gall wondered how much of a role he or his clan would be playing in the grand scheme.

They'd be involved, to be sure, as Cho'gall was duty bound to serve Gul'dan above all others, but would he be part of the final prize, or cast aside in favor of the little human apprentice. It was difficult to say.

Thankfully, Doomhammer was in a good mood upon their return, and happily took the battle plan, commanding them to pull back from the front for a time of well earned rest, until he called for their services again. It seemed that they might simply bypass the rest of the dwarves and continue north, as the mountain passes up to the city of Ironforge were so well guarded that it would require a monstrous force to take it, and losses would still be devastatingly heavy. Yet this didn't seem to perturb the Warchief, and Cho'gall wondered if there was something going on behind the scenes, something that Doomhammer was waiting to show at the right moment to help turn the tide in their favor, if it was ever needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khadgar sensed something out of place. From atop the tower once owned by his old mentor, Medivh, now that he was freed of any responsibility to the Kirin Tor of Dalaran, he was more than able go about his research of magic on his own terms. But at this time, he was somewhat wishing that he had the resources of the other Archmagi to confer with.

Something... new, was stirring in the air; some new magic that was brewing directly in the middle of the horde's territory. He would attempt to investigate it himself, but there was one large, green problem with him attempting that, the warlock Gul'dan.

Over the few years since the first war and the loss of Stormwind, Khadgar had learned of the mightiest of the orcish warlocks, one whose power seemed to rival his own in the magical arts. If he was behind this new power, then there was little that Khadgar could do alone to stop the orc. But that was not to say that he could do nothing.

Gathering choice ingredients from the tower, Medivh's apprentice began a spell of scrying, hoping that he might see what the old orc was up to. As the shimmering vision gleamed to life, Khadgar gain a mere flash of insight; the tiniest glimpse, before the orc's presence snuffed out his spell with magic of his own. But what Khadgar saw only confused him all the more. If not for triple checking his spell and the ingredients he used Khadgar would have most assuredly presumed that he had done the spell incorrectly. But it was all there, exactly as the books in Medivh's library had stated that he ought to use.

But that led to far more questions than answer. What in Azeroth was Gul'dan, an orc, which race had come to exterminate humanity and all good things, doing with a human child in his arms? What sinister purpose was the warlock concocting with a child barely older than a toddler? It was clear that the boy was not being sacrificed or killed, if anything it looked like the child was laughing as the orc lifted him.

Could it be that Gul'dan found a child with potential for learning the magical arts, and was training him to be a warlock loyal to the horde as some sort of double agent, possibly to replace Garona, the half orc assassin that had been Khadgar's friend before her disappearance?

It truly did make little sense, and Khadgar was sure how well the Kirin Tor would take to his sudden reappearance and request for their assistance, but they had pledged their support to the Alliance of Lorderon that was making preparations if and when the orcs came northward, so he supposed that this tactic of war would be appropriate for them to investigate.

As Khadgar made his way down to where the Gryphons were nested, he passed by Moroes, the caretaker of the tower. "I'll return soon," he said hastily as he passed, "I need to travel to Dalaran once again."

"Very good sir," Moros replied, albeit looking confused. Khadgar understood why, as he had only just returned from that place days ago.


	3. C2: The Lands of the North

**The amount of popularity has left me quite astounded here, and I am pleased to be able to give to you all the next chapter, and quip that my (unknown to you) Lull in inspiration has passed, allowing me to once more get excited for writing. although with that comes a multitude of off shooting stories that get added to the list of "wish I had time to devote to writing, but cannot." Alas, perhaps in the future, however far flung that may be. I suppose if ANP can end, then others will in time, and I will have time to develop other interesting tales to state your appetites, and my own. Nevertheless, onward with the plot!**

 **Chapter Two**

 **The Lands of the North**

Gul'dan tasted the air of the Great Sea, relishing the promises of power that lay out upon the deep blue-green waters. It had been nearly ten years now since Gul'dan had been given little Nobu'tan as his newest apprentice, and the little human was advancing through the knowledge of a warlock at speeds that even surprised the orc from time to time. The boy had already claimed his second demonic summon, bringing a harbinger of the void under his call, which would serve him well in the days ahead.

So close to the Twisted Nether were Nobu'tan's energies that he was able to twist and mold his own form, taking on that of a demon for short periods of time, a trait that Gul'dan eagerly nurtured, hoping to see what may occur should the metamorphosis become permanent. Regardless, the boy was powerful, and would be an effective agent in the coming battles in human lands.

The massive transport ship lumber on through the waters, sailing almost due north from the coasts of Westfall, skirting around the dangerous naval nation of Kul Tiras, and finally approach the Lorderon settlement of Southshore in the region known as the Hillsbrad Foothills. Doomhammer had sent sounting forces ahead already, and made a small base on the island of Zul'dare, southwest of Hillsbrad but still significantly north of Kul Tiras to escape their notice.

The only potential problem with that location that Gul'dan could see was the nearness of the peninsula that housed the nation of Gilneas, but Orgrim was confident with the location for the time being, and Gul'dan cared little if the base was later destroyed, so long as he and Nobu'tan were long gone from it before then.

Gul'dan had therefore elected to go with the initial war bands to the mainland, along with his apprentice, and was only mildly troubled by the sight of the large army of humans and their allies waiting for them on the shore. It would be difficult to get Nobu'tan past them so that the boy could infiltrate their ranks, but he had high hopes in his apprentice.

Even as the lead boats made landfall, disgorging their hundreds of warriors to the battlefield, the humans were already upon them, charging upon horseback. Having dealt with Stormwind's Knights long before, Gul'dan knew what to expect if they allowed such beasts to continue to fight with human's astride them. Calling forth a small portion of his arcane might, Gul'dan called forth a fiery storm to rain down upon the Alliance warriors, sending their troops into disarray to avoid the falling balls of flame.

Soon the mounted warriors disengaged; at about the same time that Gul'dan's ship hit the coast. Out spurred the Death Knights, even as their thousands of warriors were throwing themselves at a massive shield wall created by the defending humans. While they were suitably distracted, Gul'dan took his human apprentice out to the side of the battle, staying out of sight of the humans and their elven archers, and skirting around the far side of the battle.

"I cannot remain here long," Gul'dan said hurriedly, and it was true. Doomhammer would learn of it if Gul'dan didn't contribute to the battle personally, "but you have your orders, infiltrate and work your way towards the human city of Dalaran, find some powerful object of their magic, preferable a spell book, then return to me. You have the items that can locate me…"

The boy nodded, looking eager for this mission, but understandably uneasy. Gul'dan smirked, knowing that over this time he had grown quite fond of the boy, "The Horde will be moving secretly up through the Hinterlands, toward the Elven territories of Quel'Thalas, seek us out there."

"Yes, Master," the boy responded, and turned toward the nearest settlement, the human town of Southshore, which was the current target of the Horde. Gul'dan was sure the village would fall, but the Alliance would evacuate as many as they could, including Nobu'tan.

Once the boy was out of sight, he quickly returned to the battle, in time to see a human mage up on the line of hills channeling powerful human magic, calling lightning down upon their warriors. A bolt came straight towards Gul'dan, but his great knowledge of the Twisted Nether allowed him to negate the spell with a simple countercharm of his own. If the distant mage felt the spell, he gave no visible sign of it. for all intents the old man looked rather winded from his magic, and Gul'dan smiled widely.

If this was the best that the humans' magic could afford; a few paltry tricks before one was exhausted, than Nobu'tan's future was safest with Gul'dan, where the power of the Twisted Nether itself would fuel his sorcery instead of his own life force.

Ogrim Doomhammer arrived in his ship, and as one the Horde withdrew, turning about and making for the Hinterlands. Let the Alliance think they had their victory, the true war was only just beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan watched cautiously as the Horde turned to the right side of the battle and made their way East, toward the path that would take them up to the Hinterlands. His Master had spoken the truth, not that Nobu'tan had any reason to doubt the words of Gul'dan. His Master cared for him greater than any in the entire Horde, and would never lie to him.

But more importantly, he had a mission to achieve. Slipping past some guards and into Southshore was too easy, and before long Nobu'tan was well intermingled with the populace, so that when the Alliance warriors came to take the people out of there, should the Horde return or bring more numbers from the sea, then they would be 'safe.'

Nobu'tan struggled to contain his scoff. Not only had the Horde brought most of their strength already, but there was nowhere that these people could run to and remain safe. The Horde would destroy them all, and he would rule it at Gul'dan's side.

But for now he kept quiet, feigning awe and excitement at the sight of the warriors returning from the battle, making sure to pay extra attention to the seemingly old wizard that walked alongside the commanders of the army.

The man appeared to be old on initial sight, but as Nobu'tan watched him, it became more apparent due to his mannerisms and gate that he was far younger than his appearance suggested. He was also most assuredly not directly affiliated with Dalaran, due to the lack of robes adorned with the golden eye on purple that he had been shown once before by Gul'dan.

The wizard spared Nobu'tan a single glance, nodding pleasantly at what the man could only have assumed was an impressionable young lad fawning over the heroes of their vaunted Alliance. But Nobu'tan felt that this was one to keep an eye on, and so he discreetly followed the group as they made their way back to their horses, probably to start following after Gul'dan, Doomhammer and the rest of the Horde into the Hinterlands.

Naturally, the wizard was more observant than his companions, and Nobu'tan couldn't remain hidden for long. Muttering to his companions, the wizard halted and allowed them to go on ahead without him. "You can come out of the shadows now, lad," he said, beckoning for Nobu'tan to emerge.

He obeyed, acting sheepish at being 'caught.' "I… well… you see…" Nobu'tan stammered, purposefully having his eyes dart around, making sure not to meet the wizards own.

"No need to apologize lad, I would have done the same at your age." The wizard said knowingly, "I sense your strong potential in the magical arts, and I'm probably one of the first mages that you've encountered, am I right?"

Inwardly laughing at his luck, Nobu'tan nodded. The wizard, for all his power and insight, lack somewhat in wisdom it seemed, as he clearly believed that Nobu'tan wanted to simple find other people like himself. The wizard produced some parchment and a quill spontaneously, or perhaps they were in his robe sleeves the whole time, and started writing something down. Nobu'tan was marginally familiar with human script, but he wasn't fluent with it like the spoken language.

"Here," the wizard said, handing the parchment to Nobu'tan after folding it and putting a strange glyph upon its outside. "If your parents are willing, take this to the gates of Dalaran, and ask for admittance to the Order of wizards. With a personal recommendation from me, as well as your clear and present power, there's no reason they would not accept you."

"Th-Thank you," Nobu'tan stammered, genuinely shocked that the mage had just handed him a key to the wizard's domain. The reasoning behind the gesture was understandable, as there was little reason to suspect fellow humans of anything terribly dangerous, a child least of all.

Clutching his prize, and praising his good fortune, Nobu'tan watched as the wizard turned away and started back toward his companions, "Oh, I almost forgot," the man said, turning back momentarily, "if they ask, Khadgar sent you…"

And with that, the man departed. Turning to catch the slightest glimpse of the violet towers just barely poking their tops over the mountains to the north, Nobu'tan knew that there was a long way to go to get to Dalaran, and he would need to gather food and other supplies before leaving this town. Of course, he had no money, and there were soldiers everywhere.

Thankfully, Nobu'tan had trained under various orc warriors and even some trolls in the arts of stealth and thievery, which gave him quite the edge in gathering a small amount of supplies to start his journey. Some bread from a merchant stall, a water skin off a sleeping guard, and some dried fruit off a windowsill.

It would suffice until he was out in the wild, where his skills gleaned from various grunts and some of the Amani trolls he had studied and had taught him would be put to use. Heading out of the town at the earliest convenience, Nobu'tan only garnered a few strange looks from the oldest of the villagers.

Despite the time that it took for a ten year old to travel, Nobu'tan made it out of sight of Southshore in short order, resting in a small grove of trees and enjoying some of the dried fruit. Unfortunately, his pleasant little rest moment was soon disturbed by the growling of an animal.

Nobu'tan leapt to his feet, dodging the lung from the giant cat that had tried to sneak up on him while he ate. Heart racing as the creature stalked toward him again, Nobu'tan made the mystical gestures required to call forth a demon. "From the shadows I summon you, come forth Xorton!"

Shadows formed under Nobu'tan, and from them emerged the deep blue form of the Voidwalker that had bonded itself in the boy's service. As the cougar attacked again, the demon caught the attack with one massive arm, shoving the cat back as it positioned itself between the animal and Nobu'tan. Meanwhile, the warlock child continued to cast his magic, invoking the darkness of the void to afflict and harm the animal's very life force.

Blackened shadows started to leap from the furry body, causing the animal to hiss with pain and rage, and try once again to dart around the large blue form and get at Nobu'tan, but Xorton was faster and more powerful, keeping well in the way as Nobu'tan attacked with a shaft of shadowy magic, striking the cat in the face painfully.

Finally, calling upon destructive fire to aid him, Nobu'tan sent a powerful blast of flame slithering across the ground toward the cougar. Once the flames hit it, the animal erupted into a blaze of flailing meat and sinew. For good measure, Nobu'tan manipulated the fire of the burning cat to cause a small detonation with the flames, forcing the animal to the ground where it collapsed and moved no more.

But Nobu'tan was not finished with it yet. Using what little life energy lay within the feline corpse, the warlock picked up a small stone, drawing the tiny amount of life force from the cat into it, causing the stone to warp and glow a vibrant green. It was definitely weak, but the small stone would aid him if his injuries became greater than he expected.

"Filthy creature," the Voidwalker commented as Xorton turned back to Nobu'tan. "Have you anymore need for my services, great one?"

Nobu'tan declined, sending the Voidwalker back into the Twisted Nether, where he would await the next time that the warlock in training summoned him. All in all, the pitiful and now quite dead animal had been no great threat, but it had given Nobu'tan time to study his demon servant, and how he might be able to impart life energy to the demonic creature should the need arise.

The smoking ruin of an animal would draw unwanted attention. Over the tree line off toward the northeast Nobu'tan could see the top of a human tower, and if he could see it, then anyone up there could easily notice the smoke from the cougar. There was nothing left for it, and Nobu'tan gathered up his supplies and continued his journey to the northwest, veering further due west to circumnavigate the approaching cliffs.

As the sun was starting to set, Nobu'tan could see another small village just past the last line of trees. The trees themselves started to change, going from a random assortment to entirely fruit bearing trees, and the orc raised human looked up to notice the carefully tied down braches with sap-soaked cloth. 'Curious,' he thought, not fully understanding why this was, but continuing on regardless.

There was no one about, and Nobu'tan presumed that they were finished with their labor for the day and had returned to their homes. Figuring that they'd not miss several of their fruit, he scrambled up the nearest tree and pulled several large, red, orb-like items and putting them into the small satchel that he had brought with him.

Not wanting to be found, but with the sky darkening, Nobu'tan made his way to a secluded area with a wooden covering that seemed to be where the humans were storing their tools to tend to the trees. Settling down amid several bags of some soft things that were pleasantly inviting, Nobu'tan allowed the weariness of both his excitement and short battle with the cougar to lull him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turalyon smiled pleasantly as he spotted the wizard Khadgar stop to speak with the young waif that was surprisingly stealthy in his following of the commanders of the Alliance armies. When the mage returned, he looked more bemused and thoughtful than anything.

"Enjoy your little side trip, Khadgar?" Lord Anduin Lothar asked pleasantly, the leader of the Alliance forces.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," the wizard joked back, smiling, "just a young awestruck boy with… the most intense magical potential that I'd ever seen. I handed him a recommendation to take to Dalaran."

"Well, that's good at least…" Turalyon, commented.

"True," Khadgar replied, but he didn't sound completely sure. "Still, there was something strange about the kid; I couldn't place my finger on it though."

"Bah," Lord Lothar said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand, "you worry too much Khadgar, were all together in fighting the orcs, there ought to be nothing to fear from our fellow allies. We need to focus on chasing the Horde out of our lands, especially with them attempting to slip further north through the Hinterlands."

"The Horde had already arrived in the Hinterlands," spoke a new voice. Turalyon turned to see the high elven ranger, Alleria Windrunner, approaching at a swift march. "And they've meeting up with the trolls in that region."

Khadgar and Lord Lothar exchanged a glance, but Turalyon was the first to reply, "You're certain they're allies and not just crossing paths?" even though he believed her words to be true, the Paladin hoped mightily that they might not be. Orcs and trolls working together would lead to all sorts of trouble for the Alliance.

The woman glared back at him, and Turalyon was reminded strongly of the elves and their hatred of the trolls. It was understandable, as the two groups had been enemies for thousands of years, ever since the elves had driven the trolls of the northern forests that later became their kingdom with the help of the original kingdom of humans. "Of course I'm sure," she snapped, "I heard them talking myself. They've got a pact of some sort between them. They plan to together attack the Aerie Peak, and then move up into Quel'Thalas."

The venom with which the words were said was stunning, explaining her previous agitation perfectly. If the trolls were threatening her homeland, alongside the orcs she had left it to fight, it would be more than realistic to want nothing more than to go and help.

"We'll stop them before they can get anywhere near you homeland, Alleria," Lothar promised, taking one of the elf's hands in his own. Alleria nodded, glancing at Turalyon one last time before turning and disappearing into the trees once again.

As the trio returned to the command tent, out in the open field between Tarren Mill and Southshore, they found King Terenas of Lordaeron, as well as several other Alliance leaders in attendance.

"The orcs are fleeing into the Hinterlands," Lord Lothar announced to the respected Kings and dignitaries, "there our scouts report that they are allying with the Forest Trolls and planning an attack on Aerie Peak before pushing northward into Quel'Thalas."

King Terenas nodded as he turned to look at the large map of Lordaeron and the neighboring kingdoms on the tent's large table. "It makes sense," he admitted, tapping the location of Aerie Peak. "The Wildhammer dwarves are strong enough to put up a fight, so they'd not want to risk an attack from behind as they pass through. Not to mention that the trolls that are presumably with them would want the dwarves out of the Hinterlands altogether."

Lord Lothar approached the map as well. "It'll be tough taking the fight to them in that forest," he commented. "We can't deploy our forces properly in those trees, and we'll be forced to leave our ballistae behind as well." He paused, rubbing a hand over his forehead, thinking deeply. "Then again, they'll not be able to marshal their forces well either. We can pick off smaller groups of orcs and not worry about them sending the full army to any one location."

"Plus the dwarves would make strong allies," Khadgar pointed out. "If we help them, they may agree to help us in return. They'd make excellent scouts and first-strike units."

"We could certainly use them and their gryphons," Lothar agreed. The leader of the Alliance army glanced up, catching Turalyon's eye, and nodded firmly. "Rally the troops," he ordered. "We're heading into the forest to save the dwarves."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ogrim Doomhammer looked across the mass of trees that separated them from what the troll leader, Zul'jin, had said was a pass up through the mountains to the elven homeland. Granted, the wily troll referred to it as stolen Amani territory and not any possession of the elves, but that was to be expected from the bitter rivalry of thousands of years.

In one of the clearings he had set up a small command tent, along with Zul'jin, Gul'dan and several others of the clan chieftains that were here with him. As they assembled to discuss their march through the forest, Ogrim spied that while Gul'dan and his hulking ogre-mage friend were present, the little human runt he had become used to seeing around the warlock's knees was conspicuously missing.

Catching the older orc's eyes, Ogrim couldn't resist the opportunity to taunt the warlock, "What's wrong Gul'dan, did you lose your human pet in the first battle? Did the humans take back your plaything before you were finished with it?"

Only a select few, primarily the sons of Blackhand Rend and Main, laughed. Gul'dan however, simply smirked. "Nobu'tan is well in hand, Warchief," he said pleasantly, although Ogrim could deftly sense the well hidden rage in his hated enemy. "He is running an errand, and will return to us before we reach Quel'Thalas…"

Ogrim shrugged, not personally caring what the human whelp was up to. It would be better if the creature was dead, especially if his presence pleased Gul'dan, and anything that made the sick warlock happy was not going to be a good thing for Ogrim to deal with in the future. He knew that eventually Gul'dan would attempt to betray him, he could see it in the Stormreaver Chieftain's eyes, but for now he needed the magic that the clan represented to combat the human mages, including the Death Knights.

He had no doubts that the undead creatures served Gul'dan over himself, but he would play along for a time, feigning ignorance and stupidity; feeding Gul'dan's overinflated ego until he overstepped his bounds. Hopefully it wasn't at a time that would severely hamper the Horde, but that usually wasn't the old orc's style.

Turning to the rough battle map they had taken from Stormwind, Ogrim indicated the forest area where they were, "we're about to be caught pincer between the human forces chasing us from Hillsbrad, and the dwarves from Aerie Peak, however, that is exactly what we want them to believe. Rend, Maim, you and your clan, along with Kil'rogg and the Bleeding Hollow clan will take a portion of the Amani trolls and march on the Peak. Give them something to think about while the rest of the Horde slips by and up into Quel'Thalas. When the humans arrive, if they haven't already, scatter into the trees and quickly regroup at the mountain pass before rejoining us."

"As you command, Warchief," the three chieftains replied, slapping their meaty hands on their chest armor and turning to marshal their clans. Ogrim knew he could trust the attack to work, as Kil'rogg was one of his most loyal. Even the wildness of the Blackhand brothers would be quelled by his experience and wisdom.

"Meanwhile," he continued, turning to the rest, "we shall move in small groups, trying not to attract too much attention over the two attacking clans, we shall regroup at the ruins of Zul'Aman, where Zul'jin and his warriors have gone to prepare a base for us. Gul'dan, can you make sure that if the attack force seems to be driven back too quickly, that we have the cover we need to make it across the mountains."

"As you wish… Warchief," the warlock said cryptically. Ogrim couldn't help but wonder if this would be the time that he would be betrayed, but he had little choice but to give Gul'dan some role to play.

But from the looks of it, as the warlock and his overlarge ogre pet departed, throwing mystical signs and creating rather disturbing, shimmering eyes to fly over the trees, that Gul'dan had no intentions of doing anything but what he had ordered for now. That probably worried Ogrim even more than if Gul'dan did betray him now; what was the old warlock planning? And where indeed was the little human runt that the great betrayer of his people was training?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan awoke early as the sounds of human voices echoed in the morning stillness. They were probably rousing to begin their work in these trees, and he didn't really want to be found amid their tools and other possessions. Whether he had been stealing them or not, it would not be looked upon fondly, even in orcish society… especially in orcish society for that matter.

Slipping from the warmth of the shed-like building, Nobu'tan ducked around the back as several humans approached, carrying their tools and looking rather tired this early in the morning. As soon as they disappeared into the building, Nobu'tan turned his back on them, looking toward the distant towers of Dalaran, and set off once again.

It seemed that it wouldn't take more than another day to reach it, but he still went carefully. Wild animals and other, stranger things would still be about in the wooded area surrounding the mountain range he had to bypass, and it wouldn't do for him to draw too much attention before arriving at the gates of the Violet city.

That being said, Nobu'tan still encountered a few oddities and dangerous creatures, but for the most part he was able to avoid any encounter with the wild beasts. The only near exception was when some of the strangest creatures Nobu'tan had ever seen wandered about on the still snowy side of the mountain, and the boy almost didn't take cover in time to avoid being noticed.

The white furred beings however seemed more interested in foraging for food rather than take any interest in the small human who had stumbled into their midst, so Nobu'tan was able to back off a bit and go around the horned creatures with no issue.

Finally, after the hard day's journey, he arrived at the surrounding villages to the city, and nation, of Dalaran. The air itself seemed to become charged with some sort of arcane power as he entered the outermost rim of houses and farms, and Nobu'tan couldn't help but stare all around him at the intense level of blatant magic that was being used. Golems and elementals patrolled in defensive formations through the streets, while enchanted objects floated about, some performing their tasks without a humanoid to operate them.

It was a most stimulating and eye opening place, but Nobu'tan knew in the back of his mind that he couldn't stay and observe; he had a job to do. Proceeding onward, making as clear a beeline as he could, the young warlock approached the gates to the massive, fortified city. No one paid the small human boy any notice as he entered, although there was a great number of people, and not only humans. Nobu'tan had his first clear view of the elves here: incredibly tall, thin and dangerously beautiful, with a wild sort of look in their eyes when they were engaged with things of the arcane.

Refocusing on his two missions here, Nobu'tan started slowly exploring the city, doing his best to keep out of the way of the great many number of wizards that choked the streets and buildings. The magic was overpowering at times, and Nobu'tan found himself distracted more than once by this or that merchant or show, each portraying daring feats of magic.

Eventually, Nobu'tan concluded that both of his objectives lay within the Violet Citadel itself, and recognized that he had no choice but to reveal himself to the leaders of the city that resided there. Approaching the massive structure with trepidation, Nobu'tan thought hard. Obviously they were going to ask him his name, and while Nobu'tan was proud of the strong orcish heritage he had been granted by Gul'dan, he needed a human name to better blend in with the denizens of Azeroth. Thinking hard and quickly, he settled for Tobias Banu, a slight rearrangement and addition to his true name.

What he wasn't expecting was to be halted by an arcane golem before he could even enter the building. "No unauthorized entry permitted," the thing said in a monotone.

"But I need to see one of the magi," Nobu'tan said weakly, not knowing who or what may be listening in on his conversations here, "I have this letter." From his cloak he removed the small letter that Khadgar had provided with him. Wonderfully, the construct accepted the missive, and after demanding that Nobu'tan wait where he was, it turned and proceeded inside on its own.

Knowing it would be far more dangerous to attempt to follow and sneak about under the nose of the Archmagi who led this city, Nobu'tan did as he was told. After what felt like several minutes, the golem returned, along with a rather young wizard.

"Come," the young man said, beckoning Nobu'tan with one hand, "Several of the upper mages wish to question you."

Shifting with slight nervousness, Nobu'tan obeyed, not sure what to expect from these wizards any longer. Clearly Khadgar had created quite a stir by sending Nobu'tan here. He just hoped that was the case and that they didn't sense his inner nature and affiliation with demons just yet.

He was led through the violet halls in silence by the young wizard, through corridors and bypassing many classrooms where students were being lectured or practiced their arts. Finally, toward the end of a large corridor, a door was partially open, and the wizard beckoned Nobu'tan to enter.

As they did, Nobu'tan was surprised again to find that only a single wizard, older than many he had seen outside or in the lecture halls, waited inside. "Archmage Kel'Thuzad," the young wizard announced, "the bearer of the letter from Archmage Khadgar."

Nobu'tan paused, unsure what he had just entered or why the man before him seemed to light up at his presence. "Well, well…" the Archmage stated, leaning forward in the chain he was sitting in, "come in lad, and have a seat. I believe we have much to discuss…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khadgar waited in silence as Lothar, Turalyon and himself slowly made their way through the dense trees of the Hinterlands on horseback. They didn't have the room or field of vision to go much faster than that, but it was all that Lothar wanted to do at the current moment. They needed to find the orcs first before the decided on a course of action.

"Get ready," Lothar whispered, even as the man slowly drew his greatsword and held it and his shield raised, "they should be close by now."

Turalyon nodded obediently and hefted his own weapon, a warhammer. Khadgar truly liked the paladin, although he feared that the young man might have been too hard on himself at times. Going from full tine priest to holy warrior at the word of Archbishop Alonsus Faol musn't have been easy for the lad. Still, despite the seemingly aged difference between them, Khadgar was truly barely older than the paladin, and had grown somewhat attached to him as a close friend.

It was he that noticed the first signs of movement in the gloomy forest, signaling with his finger the telltale sign of something human sized moving about in the trees. "Got them," Lothar said smugly, placing a hand on the Paladin's shoulder appreciatively. Looking to Khadgar, he continued, "Let the others know, we'll keep watch, and make sure that they don't get away…"

Khadgar shook his head at Lothar's enthusiasm. Sometimes it frightened him how the Supreme Commander of the Alliance could be so eager for battle, but at the same time, having known the man since he first set foot in Stormwind so long ago with Medivh, it didn't surprise him.

The man had already sent emissaries to the Wildhammers, and they're gryphon riders ought to be on their way to converge with their armies. By the time Khadgar returned with the main force of the Alliance, Lothar and Turalyon seemed to have decided on their best course of action. The Supreme Commander indicated a large clearing, "That is likely where a large portion of their force in this area will be located, and we shall attack there."

There was a screech overhead, and they looked up to see a single gryphon rider overhead, hammer swinging excitedly. "It seems we have succeeded in allying with the Wildhammers," Turalyon stated.

Lothar drew his greatsword, and the army behind them readied for battle in an instant. "Now!" he shouted, spurring his horse forward, Turalyon following immediately behind. The orcs were unprepared for their arrival, watching the skies and carrying spears to counter another gryphon attack, and the first wave of knights tore through their lines with singular ease.

The trolls moved to attempt to counter from the trees, but it was at the same moment that the Wildhammer dwarves and their gryphons arrived, which turned the battle into little more than a massacre of the orcs and their allies. It didn't take long before the evil creatures were in full retreat, and the Alliance and dwarves could relax for a time.

Hours later, in the mountain fortress, Khadgar found himself, along with Lothar, Alleria and Turalyon mutually invited into the Wildhammer thane's home. Meat and other warm food was readily available, and the dwarf graciously offered them seating around the room. "Greetings laddies, and lass!" he said warmly to them. "Ye are most welcomed indeed! We feared those greenskins, orcs you call them, would overrun our homes, they were so man! But your arrival put an end to that, and together we'll be driving them from the Hinterlands! I am in your debt."

As Lothar engaged in bringing the Wildhammer dwarves into the Alliance, Khadgar studied the leader of these dwarves closely. Kurdran Wildhammer, as he was called, was just as simply studying each of them, but from what Khadgar could see the dwarf was pleased with them as a whole. Truly it seemed that the Wildhammer thane would have welcomed them even if they hadn't just rescued his people from destruction.

They also learned through the brief chat that these dwarves hadn't heard from their cousins in Kaz Modan in some time, which added to the evidence that the Alliance had already supposed, that the orcs had invaded the middle part of the content for the massive ore supplies to create their fleet of iron ships.

But even worse was the knowledge that the main force of the Horde had gone north, through the mountains and into Quel'Thalas. The entire battle for the Aerie Peak was a feint by the orcs, to distract the Alliance from pursuing them. Whomever or whatever was leading these creatures was a wily one, and deceptively subtler than most, especially after the way the Horde first fought against Stormwind. Back then they had simply used their sheer force of numbers, along with a few bouts of assassination to conquer, but now they were employing genuine strategy, and shockingly cunning plans to circumnavigate the Alliance forces while still striking dangerous strikes.

At that information Alleria grew desperate to depart swiftly and go warn her people and Lothar was quick to agree, "We'll rally the troops at once and set off again. If we move fast…"

But Alleria was having none of it, "there's no time!" she insisted desperately, "You said that the Horde has distance on us. We've lost days already! And gathering the troops will only slow us down further. I'll go myself"

"No," Lothar said quietly, but firmly. "You'll not go alone." The man ignored her glare and pressed on, "Turalyon, take the rest of the cavalry and half the troops. You're in charge. Khadgar, you go with him. I want the Alliance present to help defend Quel'Thalas." Then the Supreme Commander returned his attention to the Wildhammer Thane, "The rest of us will stay and make sure that the forests here are clean. We cannot afford a fight in front and behind. After we are sure, we shall rejoin the others at the front."

Lothar returned his attention to Turalyon and Alleria. "Are you still here? Get moving; every second you waste puts the Horde once second closer to Quel'Thalas." The pair scrambled for the entrance, but Khadgar took his time, there was plenty of time for him to get to his horse, as the others had to rally over half the army.

Strangely, he found his thoughts drifting back to the young boy from Hillsbrad, and he wondered for a moment if he had gone to Dalaran or not. Perhaps he would return soon and offer to take the boy as his apprentice, if he survived the war that is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cho'gall was not pleased with the current scheme of Doomhammer, using ropes to scale the mountainside between the Hinterlands and Quel'Thalas. Moving his bulk around was already a challenge at times; with so many things the orcs created not suitable for the ogre mages size, but this was an all time low.

The ropes that the trolls lowered for them to climb were simply too thin and easily broken by Cho'gall's weight, which forced him to climb the mountain by hand. Not that this was a difficult task, as strong as he was, but Cho'gall was a warlock, and such petty physical exertions were way beneath him.

He could only wonder what Gul'dan must have thought about it, but the older orc was still strong and spry, and easily climbed the ropes up to the top without complaints, unlike the Black Tooth Grin chieftains, who had elected to not go to battle at Aerie Peak with a part of their clan. Kil'rogg was not present, as the older orc had chosen to go, and Cho'gall was sure that the wily hunter of an orc would survive, as he had for years beyond his prime as a clan chieftain.

When Cho'gall finally mounted the top of the rise, he stopped Ogrim Doomhammer speaking with Zhulud the Wacked, chieftain of the Dragonmaw clan as well as the troll Zul'jin. "Where are they?" the Warchief asked the shaman chieftain, who grinned at the looks the other chieftains were given him over his secret with the warchief.

"On their way," he replied cryptically, "they have a long way to travel, but they are swift. They will reach us soon, and the world will tremble at their arrival."

"Good," Doomhammer replied, ignoring the muttering of the orcs nearest him. Cho'gall simply kept silent, storing the information carefully to discuss with Gul'dan later on. The Warchief them turned to the Amani Troll leader, "How far are we from Quel'Thalas?"

"Four days travel, at this pace," the troll replied. "But we could be there sooner…" the mad looking eyes gleamed at the prospect, and the long fingered hands strayed to the axes worn at his side.

"No," Doomhammer ordered, ignoring the troll's obvious disappointment in his decision. "You will stay with us and continue lowering ropes for our troops." Then the Warchief grinned at Zul'jin, "Do not worry, you will get your chance to attack the elven homeland. But not until the Horde is right behind you, ready to roll down upon them."

Zul'jin pondered the thought for a moment, then nodded, satisfied, "They'll be angry, ya," he commented before laughing. "They'll emerge like wasps, ready ta sting. An' you will swarm them like ants, devourin' them whole."

Doomhammer seemed pleased with the troll's metaphor, and dismissed him to go ahead with his warriors and prepare the next set of ropes for their climb. The orc turned, and approached when he spotted Cho'gall. "You, Twilight Hammer Chieftain, how fares the refineries at Kaz Modan?" he demanded, his delight at dealing with the trolls evaporated into irritation for having to now speak with the ogre magi.

"They are more than meeting their quotas…" Cho'gall informed the Warchief, before his second head picked up the conversation, "and the warriors you left with me were able to storm upward into the Arathi Highlands, driving the forces of Stromgarde before them as they cut their way to meet you in the Hinterlands. As I was no longer needed to oversee the refineries, I elected to come along."

Ogrim shrugged, clearly uninterested in what Cho'gall's reasons for being here were, but nodded nonetheless, before moving on, but it was no matter. The upstart orc would receive his comeuppance from Gul'dan in due time. As he thought this, Cho'gall started in the direction of the fel energies of his master, eager to share what little information he had just gleaned from the Warchief's various talks, especially whatever the Dragonmaw Chieftain was planning in secret with Doomhammer.

Only when Cho'gall spotted the orc warlock, did he notice the distinct lack of one human runt, which had him questioning where and to what end the boy had been sent off to.


	4. C3: The Might of the Arcane

**I can't restate enough how pleased I am with the immediately popularity of this fic. the acceptance of it is very reassuring, even while my other fics are receive rather vindictive flames from people who think that they are, for whatever reason, more appropriate for writing my stories than myself, but I have chosen to move on from that, and instead focus on what I enjoy, making a good storyline with interesting characters. Therefore, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Three**

 **The Might of the Arcane**

Archmage Kel'Thuzad of the Kirin Tor was not a man easily surprised, not with the amount of lore he had learned, both condoned and forbidden by his order. However, when it came to the small boy before him, barely ten years of age yet having a presence that betrayed a much older child, he found himself without words to engage the boy with.

Looking down at the letter in his hands once again, written by Khadgar himself no less, Kel'Thuzad was left with only one course of action. If the apprentice and successor to Medivh believed this boy to be of great worth to teach, than the boy must be taught the ways of the Magi, even if Kel'Thuzad had to do it himself.

Gauging the boy's levels of arcane potential yielded the reasons why Khadgar had sent the boy here. The possibilities with this child were limitless. Magic flowed in his every vein, part of the child himself rather than an aura that lingered upon him to use and consume. Commanding the vast elements of nature would be as child's play for this one, and who better to teach him than the most learned of all the leading members of the Kirin Tor.

"Tell me your name, son," Kel'Thuzad asked pleasantly, beckoning over a small magical tray with simple refreshment for the boy and himself. The child looked like he had walked for a long time, who knew how long until he met Khadgar in Southshore, and then the rest of the way to the Violet Citadel, possibly alone as well.

"I'm… uh…" the boy hesitated, clearly intimidated to be in the presence of a powerful Archmage like Kel'Thuzad.

"Come now, no need to be shy, speak up lad…" the Archmage urged gently.

"Tobias, sir… Tobias Banu…" the boy replied softly, eyes darting between the tray before him and Kel'Thuzad.

"Please, come sit and have something to eat. I have several questions I wish to ask before your training begins, apprentice…" Kel'Thuzad urged gently.

Eye widening, the boy obeyed, hastily grabbing several of the magic enriched breads and pastries from shops near the Violet Citadel. Kel'Thuzad had to chuckle at the boy's antics. It was clear that, much like himself at that age, Tobias didn't trust too quickly, and shrewdly withheld information until it was needed to be given. This was a wise instinct, one that Kel'Thuzad hoped to nurture in the years to come while the boy learned the arcane arts.

"What do you know about the Mages of Dalaran, Tobias?" he asked, hoping to spark a wonderfully instructive discussion.

The boy paused, swallowing his current bite of food before responding. "They are the only powerful, legally recognized organization of magic users in Azeroth…" he spoke softly, before diving in for another bite of the cake in his hand.

Kel'Thuzad nodded, it was correct, and something somewhat more than what he had expected from the youth. This spoke of someone who had done tiny bits of research, or had at least learned of something while he was with his parents, which was where Kel'Thuzad changed topics to next.

"And where is your mother and father right now?" he probed, searching the suddenly blank face for any telltale sign of a lie or deflection.

When the child gave no response, Kel'Thuzad suspected that ill will had befallen young Tobias' family, but to be sure, he whispered a small spell that allowed him to view a quick flash of insight to the boy's surface thoughts. What he saw confirmed his suspicions. An orc Warlock flashed into his mind, followed by an ogre, as well as a rotting human knight bearing the Stormwind insignia. If Kel'Thuzad didn't know better, he'd have almost guessed that the trio formed the boy's family, but it was impossibly. The Horde wanted nothing more than to destroy all races on this world.

"They're not with us anymore, are they, Tobias?" he asked gently, to which the boy nodded. Kel'Thuzad pressed no further on the matter. It was not his place to pry into an apprentice wizard's former life unless invited to do so. Perhaps in time young Tobias would open up to him, and they together could overcome the evils in the young boy's past.

"Well," Kel'Thuzad said after a few moments of silence, "I believe that's enough questions for me, why don't we get started with a tour of the Citadel?"

The boy perked up slightly, and smiled as Kel'Thuzad led him through the halls and past teaching rooms and other chambers in the Violet Citadel, softly explaining their many uses and what the boy could expect to learn within each.

The final part of the tour, which was the most important for various reasons, was the Arcane Vault. Letting the boy into the room gently, Kel'Thuzad ushered him from relic to relic, not only letting the boy see the wonders that magic had created over the years, but also allowing Kel'Thuzad to see what affinities the boy had for the various types of magic taught in Dalaran.

What he discovered was extraordinary. The boy's own magic, already so different from the magi of Dalaran in form, as it was part of the child himself, reached out naturally to each artifact, attuned already to all forms of magic. Kel'Thuzad was half tempted to take the boy to the darker part of the Vault, and see if he was also attuned to all the determined 'evil' magic that had been confiscated by the wizards over the years, but he restrained himself. No need to attempt any of that until they boy was old enough to responsibly handle it.

Nevertheless, there was little with magic that the boy could not do, and Kel'Thuzad wanted to do no less that broaden the child's horizons as much as possible. It would be years of hard work, possibly a lifetime, but the boy would do fantastic things, and when he finally reached the level of Archmage, Kel'Thuzad believed strongly that he would be the most powerful magi of Dalaran to ever live, short of the Guardians of Tirisfal of old.

Silently, while the boy gaze wide eyed at the magnificence of the Eye of Dalaran, he sent a short message via magic to the library, ordering copies of the three main paths of magic that most wizard took here, the path of the arcane, the path of fire, and the path of frost.

He would be patient, and see how quickly little Tobias took to these basic spells and forms, and then perhaps they'd move on to more advanced material. Nodding to himself, Kel'Thuzad had to hand it to Khadgar; he may not trust the man any more than he had Medivh, but he had a talent of finding powerful things purely by accident.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan took to the learning of the human wizard's magic like a fish to water. The books that Kel'Thuzad had brought to him, after he quickly learned via magic to read the human and elven languages courtesy of the Archmage, he quickly devoured the tomes of much of their knowledge, coupling it greatly with his learning from Gul'dan.

Less than a week and he had already flown through the initial levels of a fledgling mage in Dalaran, much to the envy of those who were in the know of his appearance and tutelage. But for the most part Kel'Thuzad kept him away from the other initiates, stating that they would slow Nobu'tan down and he would flourish best without any outside interference. More likely, Nobu'tan suspected that the Archmage wanted all the glory of training Nobu'tan to himself, for whatever prestige it would bring him later on.

Not that that was going to be happening. After progressing to the point where Kel'Thuzad gave him free access to the libraries to learn as he pleased, Nobu'tan had quickly assembled a selection of original manuscripts, conveniently leaving the traceable copies in their place at the library, and had prepared a satchel to carry his treasures the long trek to Quel'Thalas to rejoin his true master. There was only one other thing he wanted before he would depart.

Stowing away to the Arcane Vault, Nobu'tan kept to the shadows, not even allowing the purple robes he wore to be seen by the arcane guardians of the place. Although he was permitted to be here, it would be best if no one knew how the item he desired was taken.

Passing through the arcane and more public area of the Vault, Nobu'tan slipped into the back, where the darker and more supposedly dangerous magical artifacts resided. Here there were things far more to his liking, necromantic rods and trinkets, as well as mounds of books on dread lore and all manner of objects that these wizards feared to use. It was laughable, and Nobu'tan would have taken them all off their hands if he could get away with it, but there was only time for him to take one.

Far in the back, on a pedestal lay a simple book, except that it was bound in the strangest leather that Nobu'tan had ever seen. From his studies he knew that it was demon hide, and the tome in question was a powerful book relating to the human's trifling with the extra planar beings, and the Legion that his master Gul'dan served.

Positively quivering in excitement, Nobu'tan gingerly lifted the book, stowing it away in his satchel so that none would see, and departed from the vault in stealth. In a way, it would be a pity to leave on such poor terms from the arcane city, but he had many things to remember it by, as well as the learning that he would be more than capable to merge with his warlock training by Gul'dan.

Kel'Thuzad was right about one thing however; Nobu'tan thought as he slipped out of the Citadel, he would be possibly the most powerful magic user that any had seen for years. It was a shame that he wouldn't be he serving them, but following a far different agenda.

Getting out of the city itself would be difficult; it would be doing it unseen that was the challenge. To alleviate suspicion towards himself, due to his youth, Nobu'tan wove the arcane arts to conjure a sentient elemental of water to walk with him. Most of the residents would never question a wizard with such an elemental, intimidated by the strange being of water, and that allowed Nobu'tan to pass through the streets to the main gate and exit without being accosted.

However, when attempting to pass the arcane golems that stood watch at the entrance, he was finally stopped by a violet robed figure. "You, apprentice, you're not supposed to be outside of the Citadel this late in the evening."

Thinking fast, Nobu'tan tried to bluff his way past the guarding wizard, "I'm on business for Archmage Kel'Thuzad, and I need to go out of the city to do it."

Unfortunately it didn't seem to faze the guard, "Unacceptable, Lord Kel'Thuzad knows better than to send a lowly apprentice out of the city after dark. I cannot allow you to pass; return to the Citadel and wait for morning to leave."

That was naturally not what Nobu'tan was planning on doing. But sadly, just by looking at the wizard before him with his two arcane sentinels, he would not be fighting his way out. Not that he wanted to draw that much attention in fleeing anyway.

"I cannot allow you to interfere with my mission for Master Kel'Thuzad," he said stubbornly, raising a hand and beginning to funnel magic through it. The wizard and his guards were instantly on edge, preparing for any sort of attack he would throw at them.

They must have been surprised then, when instead of any sort of attack spell, Nobu'tan redirected his magic inward, focusing on the spot far past them, and teleported a short distance past them, while the water elemental he conjured let out a torrent of water and ice, which was met with a vicious response by the arcane guardians.

The wizard however, whirled and began a pursuit of Nobu'tan, "Hey you stop!" he cried, launching off small bolts of fire and ice to hinder and corral the younger human but not injure.

Thinking fast, Nobu'tan bolted for the nearest line of trees, taking him out of view of the Violet Citadel and its massive towers. The wizard chased after him, his longer legs slowly catching up. But that was no matter now. As soon as he crashed into the undergrowth beneath the trees, Nobu'tan launched into the summoning chants for his demonic minions. First Xorton arose with an angered sigh, followed by the happy giggling of Quzkol the imp. Nobu'tan was about to bring back his water elemental as well when the wizard broke in upon them. "Here you are, what have…" he began chidingly, but froze at the sight of the demons standing protectively between Nobu'tan and himself.

"So that's it then…" the wizard continued coldly, his eyes burning in their sockets with rage, "the little upstart couldn't help but dabble in magic that was not for those of this world, and has decided to flee, probably with stolen secrets no less…"

Nobu'tan shrugged, uncaring what the wizard thought, and gestured for his minions to attack, while still building energy within himself. Xorton, brutish as he was charged ahead to take the forefront while Quzkol darted to one side, fire leaping from his tiny claws at the mage, who erected a shield of pure magic to weather the brunt of attacks on him.

Meanwhile, Nobu'tan whirled arcane magic around himself, launching bolts of frostfire at the wizard, while still building his connection to the Twisted Nether. Under his own power, even with the help of his demonic friends there was no easy way for him to defeat this mage; he needed more power.

Even as his Nether energy started to peak, the wizard had blinked past Xorton, eager to reach Nobu'tan and stop him over the demons he was commanding. Flames leap from the mage's hands, but a lightning quick counterspell silenced the wizard just long enough for Nobu'tan to make the connection between his body and the Void. He laughed at the nether energy rushed through him, giving him strength far beyond his human frame.

His vision rose as his body temporarily changed into a new demonic form, complete with claws, horns and hooves. The wizard looked appropriately shocked at Nobu'tan now as the young human warlock seized him by the front of his robes and threw the mage bodily from him, smashing the robed body against a nearby tree. The magic created shield absorbed most of the impact, but Nobu'tan didn't care any longer. He was going to have a bit of fun with this one.

Conjuring fire with both his demonic and arcane powers, he started to bombard the shimmering blue shield with fireballs and seething incineration flames. The shield flickered fainter and fainter, even as the mage tried to retaliate with ice spells, which melted in the face of the infernal flames.

The mage staggered to his feet, trying to make a run back for Dalaran, presumably to warn the other wizards, but that was not to be allowed. Flapping the massive wings that his metamorphosis granted him, Nobu'tan leapt forward, landing heavily upon the mage with his hooves first, and felt the crack of bones under him.

The mage fell to the ground screaming, blood pooling from his robes where Nobu'tan struck him. It was almost pathetic how quickly the tide had turned in face of a warlock of the Horde. This mage seemed to have never seen true combat before, which gave Nobu'tan the smallest of advantages.

Standing over his defeated foe, Nobu'tan decided on a small mercy due to time constraints and fired a molt boulder into him, ending the wizard in a fiery blaze. Dismissing his demonic allies and reverting to his normal form, Nobu'tan stretched from the strange sensations of losing wind joints and muscles as well as the other features of his change into a more demonic form, and quickly oriented himself to find the quickest route northeast.

Gul'dan had told him to find the Horde on the boarders of Quel'Thalas, and from the research he did on geography in the Dalaran Libraries, he knew that the quickest path would be up through the Alterac Mountains and into the forests of Lordaeron, which skirted around the mountains that the Horde must have taken from the Hinterlands up into Quel'Thalas proper. With luck he might intercept them before they made any official move against the elves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly eight days later from leaving the Hinterlands, Ogrim Doomhammer and the various clan chieftains looked down from the final foothills into the start of a great forest. The rest of the Horde was slowly massing up behind them, weary from the week's long forced march over two mountain ranges with no battle to give them adrenalin. But even now as they looked on the edges of the elven homeland they were quickly losing their fatigue, but none as quickly or as excitedly as the forest trolls.

"We be going now?" Zul'jin asked eagerly as he looked at Doomhammer, who nodded.

"Yes, go now," the Warchief agreed. "Bring the fight to the elves. Spare no one and nothing." These must have been the exact words that Zul'jin was hoping for, as he grinned as he tilted his head back to give a strange warbling cry. From all around them, trolls began to drop from above, or appear from behind rocks and shrubs, far more than Doomhammer remembered the troll leader bringing with him originally. His confusion must have shown, as Zul'jin grinned again through his ever present scarf.

"Found more," he explained, still laughing, "Witherbark tribe. They be joinin' us."

Ogrim nodded, not terribly concerned. There was little that he feared about the trolls, despite their stealth and stature over even the orcs. He personally had faced off against ogres back on Draenor, and the brutes were fiercer than anything he had seen from the trolls, if not far stupider. Besides, in the months since forging their alliance Zul'jin had impressed him greatly. The forest troll was a clever one but he also had honor. He had promised his people's aid to the Horde and would not go back on that. Ogrim was more than willing to risk his life on that belief.

Of course, the fact that the forest trolls apparently hated these high elves more than anything certainly helped. They had all unanimously been in favor of turning north toward Quel'Thalas, and been nearly frantic to breach the elven forest and begin finding and attacking elves themselves. The Warchief had insisted that they wait however, as he had wanted the rest of the Horde properly in position before the trolls struck. And Zul'jin had managed to keep his brethren in line, even though he himself was as eager to attack as they were.

But the time for waiting was finally over. With a howl of bloodlust and rage, Zul'jin leaped forward and raced down the hills, he didn't even slow when he hit the edge of the forest, the jumped up into the trees, springing easily from limb to limb. The rest of the trolls followed him, bounding into the trees and disappearing from view, with only the rustle of leaves and the occasional growl marking their fleeing presence. But Ogrim knew their plan; they would find their way deep into the forest, seeking elves and killing all they found. Soon the defenders of the forest would know of the troll's invasion and rush to meet them.

And that battle would keep the elves busy, too busy to check their boarders for other threats.

Making a signal to the Horde, he watched as dozens of peon laborers darted forward, axes at the ready and began hacking away at the first lines of trees. Aside from the supplies that the Horde would gain in firewood from these trees, Ogrim had a special use for the majority of the wood they were collecting, a separate distraction to keep the elves, and no doubt the humans that would be following them from the Hinterlands, preoccupied while the Horde moved on to their objective.

Hours later, Ogrim had returned to watch the peon's progress. They had cleared a good section of lumber, piling and stripping branches from felled trunks. Spotting motion from the corner of his eye, Ogrim turned to see the short, heavy-set form of Gul'dan walking toward him, the scarred and bearded face twisted in an expression that the Warchief was not sure he liked. Gul'dan was excited about something.

"What is it?" he demanded of the chief warlock before Gul'dan even managed to reach him.

"Something that you should see, mighty Doomhammer," Gul'dan replied, sweeping into a low, sarcastic bow. Cho'gall chuckled from behind the old orc and mimicked the gesture apelike as Gul'dan continued, "something that could aid the Horde greatly."

Sighing to himself, Ogrim nodded to the warlock and swung his hammer up onto his shoulder, gesturing for Gul'dan to lead him to this something. The warlock turned and led both him and the Ogre Mage back around the forest, perhaps a hundred feet or so from where he had stood.

There, standing in a gap forced in the trees was a massive stone, with runes carved along the rough surface. It was so powered with magic that even the Warchief, who had no gift for the supernatural or spiritual, could feel the powerful energies radiating off the crude monolith.

"What is it?" he questioned the warlock.

"I do not know exactly," Gul'dan answered, stroking his bristly beard as he studied the stone, "But it is very powerful. I believe these Runestones, for there are others spaced evenly around the forest's edge, serve as a sort of mystical barrier."

"They did not stop us, or the forest trolls for that matter…" Ogrim pointed out.

"No, they did not." Gul'dan answered, "But we used nothing more than our hands and feet and blades. I believe these Runestones restrict the use of magic within, most likely allowing only the elves' own magic to function. I have tried tapping my magic here and I cannot, but if I move ten paces away, toward the hills, my spells return."

Ogrim eyed the Runestone more appreciatively from that point. "So we could take them, and set them around our enemies to prevent them from casting spells," he mused, thinking of what possibilities such an item would have, as well as how many orcs or ogres it would take to move the monoliths, and how'd they'd be able to transport them long distances.

"That is one approach, yes," Gul'dan agreed, his tone implying that he himself had thought of the same idea. "But I have another in mind, my Warchief, if you will indulge me a moment." Ogrim nodded, sudden suspicion in the back of his mind. While he did not trust Gul'dan whatsoever, the warlock had proved himself useful, in the creation of the Death Knight and several other matters, and the Warchief couldn't help but feel curious what the stocky orc had in mind.

"These stones contain immense magic," Gul'dan explained. "I believe I can harness that power for our own purposes.

"What do you mean," Ogrim questioned cautiously. He was more than wary of giving Gul'dan free rein over anything too powerful, which was why he had allowed the warlock to retain his human pet. But in a matter like this he wanted specifics.

"I can use these to create a special font of power, perhaps an altar of sorts," Gul'dan replied. "An Altar of Storms, if you will. By channeling the energy from these stones, I can transform creatures. We will make them more powerful, more dangerous, though they may suffer some disfigurement."

Doomhammer was already shaking his head, "I doubt any orc will let you experiment upon him a second time," he pointed out sharply. He himself still remembered bitterly the night Gul'dan had offered the so-called Cup of Unity, the Chalice of Rebirth, to every chieftain in the Horde, and to any warrior they deemed worthy. Doomhammer had wisely not trusted the warlock even then, and he refused when Blackhand had offered him the drink, saying that he did not wish to take away from his chieftain by sharing such power with him.

However, he had born witness to what the liquid had done to his friends and clanmates. It had made them larger and stronger, yes, but it had also turned their eyes a glowing red and their already greenish skin a vivid, sickly hue, signs of demonic taint. And above all, it had driven them all mad with bloodlust, with rage, with hunger. It turned the once noble orcs into animals, crazed killers. Some had greatly regretted the transformation later, but by then it was of course too late.

"I will not use an orc to test these altars," Gul'dan reassured him. "No, I will use a creature that can benefit from even more strength but will barely notice any reduction to intellect." The warlock grinned, "I will use an ogre."

Considering the option, Doomhammer saw the logic. They did not have many ogres with them in the human world, but the ones they did control were easily worth ten times their weight in other soldiers. To make them even stronger… would definitely be worth the risk. "All right," he said at last. "You may build one of these Altars. Let us see what happens. If it works I will supply you with more ogres, or any other race you wish."

Gul'dan bowed low and Ogrim nodded, quickly dismissing the warlock and his demented schemes for the time being as he turned away. There was still much to do elsewhere to prepare for the elves to arrive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turalyon knew that Alleria was growing steadily more restless as they traveled. The road up to Quel'Thalas required them to journey back all the way to Capital City, and cross over into the eastern forests, past Andorhal and then up towards Stratholme, but they had barely reached the edge of the Tirisfal glades yet and there was still nearly a week's worth of travel for them to march.

"You need to pick up the pace," she snapped at him as she cantered her horse up to him once again, startling him once again with her skills in stealth, even when not trying to conceal her location. But he sighed regardless; it was the same complaint for the past week since they left the Hinterlands. "We're moving as fast as we can," he told her calmly, turning to check that his statement was true as he said it. The men were tired, that was more than a fact, but even they were more than moved to reach the elven forests in time to save the fairer people. "You know we cannot match you for speed. And armies always move slower than individuals." He explained, again.

"Then I'll go on myself, as I should have from the start," she insisted, tensing to sprint past him and deeper into the trees on her own.

"No!" Turalyon commanded, and whether it was the concern in his voice or the sharpness of the order, she stopped and cursed under her breath.

"Let me go!" she insisted. "I need to warn them!"

Turalyon could feel the heartache from the elf, but at the same time he knew that he had to stand his ground on this matter, not only because of Lord Lothar's orders, but because, somewhere deep inside of him, he cared a great deal for this woman. "We will warn them," he assured her, hoping that the certainty in his voice penetrated her rather stubborn attitude. "And we will help them stand against the Horde. But if you go by yourself you will be caught and killed, and that…" he had to pause, not wanting to think of that possibility, "…that will not do anyone any good He finished, hoping that his pause wasn't noticed.

"I am an elf, and a ranger," she continued hotly. "I can disappear into the trees! No one can find me!"

"Not even a forest troll?" Khadgar asked wisely, from Turalyon's opposite side. Silently, the paladin thanked the light for the seemingly old man's insight right this moment. "Because we know they're working with the Horde," Khadgar continued, "and we know they're almost your equal in woodcraft."

"Almost perhaps," she conceded. "But I am still better."

"No one would deny that," Khadgar agreed diplomatically, though Turalyon could see the grin behind the wizard's calm. "But we don't know how many of them are out there, between us and your home. And ten of them would more than make up for your superior skill."

Alleria cursed again, and Turalyon breathed a sigh of relief. The elf was starting to see sense. "Just get them moving!" she snapped at him again, sprinting ahead to scout out the path. As she departed, the wizard turned to Turalyon. "She's worried," he said, stating the obvious quite pointedly.

"I know," the paladin admitted, "and I can't blame her. I'd be worried too, if the Horde was heading toward my home. I was when we thought they would march directly toward Capital City, and that's as close to a home as I've had these past ten years or more."

Then he sighed, "Plus she's only got half the Alliance army behind her back. and only me to command it."

"Stop selling yourself short," his friend warned sternly. "You're a good commander and a noble Paladin, one of the Silver Hand, the finest in Lordaeron. She's lucky to have you."

Turalyon smiled, grateful for the reassurance, but he only wished he could believe it. he knew he was decent enough in combat… he'd had sufficient training, and their first clash with the Horde had proven he could translate that into real fighting skill. But a leader? Before the war he had never had to lead anything, not even prayers.

Turalyon had been most surprised when, of all the Paladins, he had been chosen by Lothar to be his lieutenant. If anyone, Turalyon would have thought Uther would have been the obvious choice, though perhaps Lothar had felt that the older Paladin's faith might make it difficult for him to interact with less pious men. Nevertheless, he kept wondering what he could have done to deserve the honor of suck a rank, if he did deserve it.

"You've gone quiet again." Khadgar said, leaning closer and nudging Turalyon with one hand. "Don't think too deeply or you'll fall right out of the saddle." The mage's tone was friendly and only a little concerned, and Turalyon did his best to smile at the weak joke.

"I'm fine," he assured his friend, "just wondering what to do next."

"What do you mean?" Khadgar glanced around, and looked back at the troops marching behind them. "You're doing fine. Keep the men moving, make the best time we can, and hope we catch the Horde before they can do too much damage."

"I know." Turalyon frowned. "I just wish there was some way we could pass them and reach Quel'Thalas first. Perhaps Alleria's right… maybe I should let her go on ahead. But if she got caught, if anything happened to her…" he trailed off and glared at Khadgar, who was grinning openly. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," the mage said, laughing. "But if you're this concerned about every soldier, we might as well give up now, because you won't be willing to send any of them into battle for fear they'll get hurt." Turalyon swatted at the wizard, who ducked the blow, still laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is it ready?" Gul'dan asked impatiently. A short distance away, Cho'gall shook both his heads. The massive ogre grunted and shoved once more, his enormous shoulders pushing the last Runestone fragment another foot across the thickly grassed clearing.

"Now it is ready," he called out, straightening and rubbing at the shoulder with one hand.

Gul'dan nodded. It had taken several hours to prepare this place, digging out one of the Runestones, shattering it into several pieces, all still massive in their own right, and then carry five of them here to this clearing. Then it had taken several more hours to position the stones just right and inscribe the circle and pentagram between them. Fortunately, Doomhammer had given them the use of several regular ogres for the labor, and Cho'gall was able to communicate with his stupid, one-headed kin more easily than any orc could.

At least the stones were in place now, and the ritual could begin. Gul'dan gestured and three other orc warlocks took their places beside three of the Runestone pieces. It was a good thing Doomhammer had not killed all of them or this ritual would not have stood even a chance of working. As it was, Gul'dan thought it would succeed but he was not completely sure. He would have felt far more confident if Nobu'tan was here to provide his significant boost of raw magical power to it, but that was not an option for the moment. Still, if it failed Gul'dan was fairly certain he would survive unscathed.

Nodding to Cho'gall, Gul'dan watched as the Ogre mage called out to the ogres clustered off to one side of the Altar. After a moment of jostling and pushing and grunting one of them stepped forward. Cho'gall barked a command and the ogre, shrugging, slouched into the space between the stones. It stood in the center of the pentagram and waited, motionless.

One good thing about ogres was that they could stand still when required. Indeed, when not given an order and not looking for food ogres could stand for hours, as motionless as statues. Gul'dan had often wondered if they had somehow evolved from rocks. It would explain their dense hides as well as their utter stupidity.

Returning his mind to the task at hand, Gul'dan raised his arms and called forth the dark energies his demon masters had granted him back on Draenor. The energy of the Twisted Nether crackled about him, and he fed it into the Runestone Fragment directly before him. Cho'gall had taken the final place and both he and the other warlocks were adding their magic as well, each powering a single stone. Gul'dan knew that each was powerful in its own right, but Nobu'tan could have powered at least two stones alone, how he missed the usefulness of his favored apprentice right now.

When all five stones hummed with power, almost vibrating from the energies they contained, Gul'dan spoke a short incantation and concentrated. More energy arched from his fingertips into his Runestone, but this time the energy flickered through his stone and on to the nearest at his left. But the energy didn't stop there either. It passed to the next stone, and continued around the circle until all five were linked in an array of dancing, bristling magic. The air itself seemed to darken above the altar, and it felt thick with energy, the way the sky did before a massive storm. The ogre still stood unmoving, though Gul'dan thought he saw a glimmer of fear in its eyes. Good, Cho'gall had picked a smart one.

Once the stones were fully empowered Gul'dan turned his attention to the center, directing the raw power into the ogre that stood there. Bolts of dark energy shot from his stone upon command, striking the ogre full in the chest, and surrounding the creature with a blazing dark aura. The other Runestone fragments lent their strength and the ogre nearly disappeared within the dark glow that filled the space where it stood. Gul'dan was sure he could feel his arms trembling from fatigue and magical drain, but excitement kept him quivering with energy, even as more magic dance around the sphere, somehow feeding upon itself and obscuring all but the outline of the ogre within.

After several sustained minutes the energy slowly dissipated, revealing the ogre still standing within the circle, and Gul'dan got his first real look at the creature his Altar of Storms had created. It was still an ogre, though even larger than before and somehow its proportions had shifted. The creature's arms were not quite as long, its legs not quite so bowed, and it held itself differently, more alert. And then there were of course the two heads.

Two headed ogres were a rarity on Draenor, Cho'gall being probably the first in several generations, and still rarer was his ability to wield the magical forces. Gul'dan had been extremely fortunate to acquire the ogre when he was young, and had trained him carefully. Cho'gall had proven to be a valuable assistant and a powerful warlock in his own right, and still remained by Gul'dan's side to this day.

The only concern that Gul'dan sensed about the ogre was his growing distance whenever Nobu'tan was around, and the old orc sensed that the ogre felt more than a twinge of jealousy at the young human boy for being so close to Gul'dan. Hardly surprising, as Nobu'tan would eclipse them all in power with time, because of how his entire body was effectively a conduit of magic in and of itself. But now it seemed that Cho'gall wasn't even alone as the only ogre mage any longer.

The new two-headed ogre turned and stared at Gul'dan, somehow realizing that he was in charge.

"What am I?" it demanded, one head speaking while the other looked around. Its skill in speaking the orcish language had vastly improved as well.

"You are an ogre," Gul'dan replied, "and perhaps an ogre mage."

"An ogre mage," the new head asked, snapping its attention onto Gul'dan as it spoke. "What does that mean?"

And within moments Gul'dan found himself explaining about magi and warlocks and shaman to a fully grown ogre, something he had never before experienced. The newly created two headed ogre listened intently, and ask only a handful of pointed, and rather observant, questions, surprising even Gul'dan with the rise of its intellect.

"And I am one of these?" the ogre asked when Gul'dan had finished.

"Possibly." Gul'dan replied, narrowing his eyes. "There is a simply test for that." He stooped and lifted a single leaf from the ground, handing it to the two-headed creature. "Take this." The ogre reached forward, and with surprising dexterity took the leaf between two fingers.

"Now concentrate on the idea of fire, of heat and flame," Gul'dan instructed. Both faces of the ogre frowned, studying the leaf intently. Then it slowly nodded, first one head and then the other.

"Good." Gul'dan spoke softly, not wanting to disrupt the creature's concentration. "Now bring the flame to life. Let it claim the leaf, the fire licking across it, the heat warming your skin, almost burning your fingers."

He watched in satisfaction as a spark leapt to life almost instantly near the middle of the lead and rapidly grew to a small flame that spread hungrily. The leaf shriveled, turning dark and brittle in seconds as the fire consumed it. The breeze carried it away, and the ogre glanced up, meeting Gul'dan's eyes with both its own pairs, its double gaze bright.

"I am an ogre mage then, yes?" it sounded pleased. One head even grinned. The other smiled slightly, thought it seemed puzzled.

"Yes," Gul'dan agreed, also pleased. "You are one of us."

"What does that mean, 'one of us'?" the creature asked next, the less exuberant head frowning. "What do I do with this gift?"

And once again Gul'dan found himself in deep discussion with the ogre, about the Horde and their plans of conquest. The ogre mage listened intently, absorbing every detail. Eventually the ogre had heard enough, pledging itself to Gul'dan, who had created it, and demanding instruction of what to do next. Gul'dan calmly introduced Cho'gall and allowed the ogre magi to get acquainted. Cho'gall would name and instruct the new mage in how to power the Altar of Storms to create more ogre magi. If only Nobu'tan was here to witness their next level of triumph over Doomhammer, Gul'dan thought. Hopefully the boy would return soon, for the final preparations.


	5. C4: Winged Terror

**Nothing in the way of announcement, please keep up the support, and on with the story!**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Winged Terror**

Nobu'tan knew that he had to rest soon, but he continued to hike through the forests of eastern Lordaeron, pushing himself as hard as he could to reach Quel'Thalas and the rest of the Horde. The reason he was refusing to rest was that, far back down the main road toward the Capital City of Lordaeron, Nobu'tan had spotted the Alliance army marching the same direction.

Thankfully, hundreds marching along a road would never be faster than a lone figure going cross country, so the orc trained warlock figured he would arrive with time to spare to warn Gul'dan of the approaching army.

He was just passing by a large trade village, circling around it via a mountain pass that separated him from the town by a lake. Just as he was passing by a knot of trees, he heard something faint, like a rustle of leaves or a tiny branch snapping. Shifting his eyes, Nobu'tan paused, even as something leapt down from the trees behind him.

Turning slowly, Nobu'tan eyed the Forest troll that had stalked him. The tall creature was smirking, probably because of several of his fellows that were surrounding him even now.

"Took you long enough to find me," Nobu'tan said in perfect orcish, startling the troll, "bring me to Gul'dan and you will be rewarded."

"Why we be helpin' you, human? Why don' we just gut you and bring your body to the Horde?" The troll said, smirking.

"Because if you did so, Gul'dan will obliterate you, your race, and everything you hold dear. I am Nobu'tan, apprentice to Gul'dan. You will take me by the swiftest route to him, as the human's army is following behind us. Choose quickly…"

The troll paused, and Nobu'tan could see that the cunning creature was thinking about it. "Fine den human, if you be tellin' da truth, we be taking ya to Gul'dan, and if ye be lying, well… the orc be downright terrifyin'…"

"Good choice," Nobu'tan said, gesturing to the north, "shall we then, Quel'Thalas isn't getting any closer…"

The other trolls leap down at that point, and Nobu'tan offered his hands to be bound by the thick ropes that the trolls carried. The price of his pride was well worth the speed that following the troll's route through the woods would grant, getting him to Gul'dan's side all the faster, and returning him to his rightful place at the forefront of the Horde's war machine.

Smirking as they began their trek northward, Nobu'tan wondered what his master had been up to in his absence, as well as idly pondering if his disappearance had been noted by the Kirin Tor as of yet. He shivered at the thought, almost thinking he may have been being watched at the exact moment, but shook off the sensation almost as quickly. It was unlikely that the wizard's would be able to track him this far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel'Thuzad frowned as his scrying orb recorded his wayward apprentice joining up, or being captured by trolls in the eastern forests of Lordaeron. Why the boy had run so far only to be caught by the Horde was indeed puzzling, and the Archmage had half a mind to go after the boy himself, obliterating whatever obstacle was in his way to do so, but something seemed highly wrong about the scene.

Tobias seemed far too at ease upon seeing the trolls, and offered his hands willingly to be bound instead of fighting back. With his knowledge and pure talent, the boy ought to have been able to put the mongrel beasts down with little effort, which led Kel'Thuzad to believe that some other, darker reasoning was afoot here.

Talented though the boy was, he was still a naive child in some regards, to think that the Kirin Tor lacked the ability to monitor him regardless of wherever he fled to. If not for the sinister aura that seemed to be growing in the north Kel'Thuzad would have teleported north immediately to reclaim the boy, but it wasn't a risk he was willing to take with the Horde known to be in that region, at least not without more knowledge.

Then of course there were the boy's darker dealings to contend with. The guards had discovered a dead mage out in the woods near the Alterac Mountains, the taint of demonic magic all around as well as signs of a brief and frighteningly powerful magical duel. None of the other wizards knew or had noticed that Tobias was missing, and Kel'Thuzad was keeping it that way for the time being, but he knew. The boy had dealings with demons, and was powerful in that regard as well.

Had the Archmage known, he probably would not have stopped the lad from dabbling with the darker aspects of magic, but he would have advised extreme caution. If only the boy had felt that he could trust Kel'Thuzad more, he bemoaned. The stolen tomes from the vault attested however to a plot, almost as if the boy was not truly there to learn, but for some other purpose.

Kel'Thuzad had suspicions, and nothing more however, and he wasn't comfortable acting without genuine proof that something was afoot as of yet. So for the time being he would wait and watch, hoping that this was just the case of a wayward apprentice that tampered with magic he wasn't prepared for yet and panicked. Hopefully that was the case, in which the Archmage was more than willing to be lenient with Tobias, albeit there would be drastic punishment for the death of a fellow wizard, but Kel'Thuzad could understand the boy's reasons for running.

If not however; and something darker was indeed going on, then Kel'Thuzad had to act to deal with the boy permanently, before word reached the rest of the council's ears of how his star apprentice stole one of the few manuscripts of demonic magic from them, and escaped after clearly learning from its vile pages.

The Horde and its warlocks were bad enough, they didn't have time to deal with their own… and then the fearful idea struck the brilliant wizard. The boy had gone straight toward Quel'Thalas, the one place that the Horde was well known to be heading for.

Could it be possible that the boy was in league with the Horde from the beginning? The very idea seemed outrageous; the Horde was here to kill all humans in Azeroth, so what would the incentive be for any human to assist them? If that was the case, then Tobias could not reach the boarders of Quel'Thalas, willingly or otherwise. If the Horde was going to claim the demonic grimoire from the lad, then they needed to be stopped.

Thinking quickly, Kel'Thuzad altered his view in the scrying orb, trying to plot the route that the trolls would be taken to the elven homeland. It was a long shot, but once he felt like a likely place that they'd have to pass was found, he concentrated, gathering his magical power around him, and fixated upon the location, teleporting there with a burst of arcane magic.

The clearing he had chosen was a few hours ahead of where he thought that Tobias was, and that was all the time Kel'Thuzad needed to set his trap. Snatching up a pointed branch from the ground near a dying tree, the Archmage quickly started drawing runes into the moist earth, gently drying and solidifying it afterward with the lightest of fire spells. Arcane runes were normally painstakingly complex and difficult to use in such a hasty manner, but Kel'Thuzad was no normal magus, and he had devoted much time to their creation and use, so preparing several powerful and well concealed traps was child's play for the Archmage.

Once those were completed, he looked to the center of the clearing, concentrating to channel a massive amount of mana into the central rune of power, charging the entire array with his own signature. To another powerful magic user, it would be equal to lighting a beacon to his location, and he ran the risk of Tobias sensing it coming, but Kel'Thuzad hoped beyond hope that the boy was a captive, and would be overjoyed that someone had come after him.

Once that was finished, Kel'Thuzad casually conjured a pint of water, and sat in the middle of his runic array to enjoy the magic infused liquid. There was little to do but wait for the time being, and occasionally scry on the boy and his captors or guides. When roughly an hour had passed, Kel'Thuzad started to hear figures approaching through his magically amplified senses, perfectly attuned to the natural sounds around him from waiting in the clearing.

Naturally, once the trolls smelled his presence, they took to the trees, just as Kel'Thuzad had anticipated. Once within range, he causally flicked a wrist at the nearest tree, which welled up with a blast of arcane might, flinging the troll that had been hiding within it to the ground. His fellows, outraged at being detected so easily, leapt from their positions and charged at the Archmage, who calmly waited in the middle of his trap.

Once the last of them stepped onto the runic circle, Kel'Thuzad smiled, activating the spells with a mere gesture. Magic lashed out, spewing fire, ice and all manner of spells at the five very confused and soon to be dead trolls.

Try as they might, the evil creatures could neither retreat past the circle of runes nor reach Kel'Thuzad, as barriers of arcane magic barred their way stronger than steel. Within moments it was all over. The charred remains of the Horde warriors was all that was left of the captors of Tobias, yet the boy himself was nowhere to be seen.

Looking around cautiously, Kel'Thuzad tried to locate the boy via magical scrying once again, only to find his vision horrifically blocked by another, intensely strong presence. The figure of the presence seemed older, yet terrifyingly strong in the arcane arts, and significantly different from any of the Kirin Tor that ought to possess strength of that level.

There could only be one answer, and Kel'Thuzad lamented his failure to stop Tobias. His setting of his powerful trap had indeed alerted someone of his intent, and that had to be one of the powerful warlocks of the Horde, who was now protecting Tobias from his sight, which proved that the boy had been nothing more than a spy and a pawn to steal knowledge of Dalaran for the Horde. It was highly likely that the boy was not even human himself, but some sort of orc illusion that had not been revealed by Dalaran's magical auras.

"Know this, warlock," Kel'Thuzad told the specter, "you cannot keep him from me indefinitely, I will find the boy, and foil your plans with the knowledge he stole."

The figure laughed, a harsh burbling sound that seemed to emanate from the pits of the Nether itself, and Kel'Thuzad turn fixatedly to the boarders of Quel'Thalas. There was nothing for it, but he had to press onward. There were several hours yet before the army of the Alliance arrived to bright the fight back to the Horde, and if he was to snatch Tobias out of the madness before they arrived, then the Archmage of the Kirin Tor had to act fast.

Now it was personal, this warlock and Tobias had made a fool of him, and Kel'Thuzad would repay it in kind. He would reveal the boy for what he was, and put an end to the vile scheme that his warlock masters had in store for the Alliance, on his own if needs be. Somewhere in the back no his mind, Kel'Thuzad sensed the presence of Archmage Khadgar approaching from the location of the Alliance column, but he paid the man no heed. This was now technically an official matter of the Kirin Tor, and whether or not Khadgar wanted to object, Kel'Thuzad would seek out the boy and this warlock, and end this business once and for all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gul'dan watched with well suppressed mirth as his apprentice made his way confidently through the ranks of orcs, trolls and even ogres toward him, magical power radiating off his body to ward away those who would be foolish enough to challenge a human in their midst. "You have returned to my side at last, Nobu'tan," Gul'dan said, pride evident in his voice as he placed a hand on the young human's shoulder.

"Yes, Master," the orc raised human said, bowing his head obediently, "and I've brought some of the knowledge of the Kirin Tor wizards with me, but there is a problem…"

"The Archmage that has followed you here…" Gul'dan finished, surprising his apprentice, "I sensed him trying to trap you, but you've done well in escaping back to my side. We can deal with his irritating snooping when it comes to it, but you must come and see what discoveries I have made in your absence."

Leading the boy, rather more excitedly than he wished to portray himself, Gul'dan swept a hand over the expanse that had several of his Altars of Storms were laid out, all being powered by the newest of the Ogre Magi to continually turn more of their kin into the fearsome beings. "I do not recall us having so many magi, especially among the ogre population," Nobu'tan commented, not fully understanding what was before them.

Eager to explain to his most attentive and intelligent servant, Gul'dan began, "When we arrived in the boarders of this forest, I found something very noteworthy, a towering Rune Stone. As the Horde spread around to gather resources, I received reports of more of these stones ringing the trees, all pulling power from the elves' mysterious Sunwell to block outside magic from working."

Nobu'tan thought for a moment in the lull as Gul'dan led him up to the nearest Altar. "So you pulled away the stones, firstly to break the enchantment over the elves' land preventing our magic, then you reshaped them into this, albeit crude appearing, empowering altar, for what purpose?"

"Have you not guessed?" Gul'dan said, feigning disappointment.

"The Ogre-Magi…" Nobu'tan said after another pause, "You've been transforming ogres into magic users, like us."

"And ones that are completely loyal to me," Gul'dan added in a low voice, to which Nobu'tan smiled.

Signaling to the Ogre magi around this altar, Gul'dan had them all approach, each one watching Nobu'tan carefully, sensing the powerful magic radiating off the boy, but confused because of his race. "Master, what do you need?" the lead mage asked, keeping one head fixated on Nobu'tan while the other turned to address Gul'dan.

"This is my primary apprentice, Nobu'tan," Gul'dan introduced, "do not let the frailty of his race deceive you, he is one of us, and a part of the Horde in all but blood, you are to respect and obey him as you do me."

"Yes, Master," one by one the ogre magi acknowledged, coming forward to get a sense of Nobu'tan's magic, so that they'd recognize him even in the midst of battle. It was actually rather interesting for the orc raised human, watching the once clumsy and brutish creatures now be so agile and intelligent. "Are they ready to fight using their magic?" he asked Gul'dan as the group returned to their stones to continue amplifying more of their kin.

"A few, but we've been keeping them busy in converting as many of their brothers as possible before the trolls finally stir up the elves enough to attack us," Gul'dan explained.

"There's more then," Nobu'tan added hastily, "the human army is marching to try and flank us from the south, they ought to be here within a day."

Gul'dan froze, that had been news he would have wanted to know immediately, "That changes things," he stated slowly, "I will warn Doomhammer, he is back towards the initial place that we arrived, burning the forests with his warriors. You will train as many of the ogre magi in the basics of magical combat as fast as you can, they can pick up a few things that will make them even more destructive, and then you will take all and follow to where we will be. If my guess is right, then we will be locked in battle by then."

"Yes Master," Nobu'tan acknowledged, even as Gul'dan sent up a small flare of dark magic, signaling to all the ogres and their magi brethren to gather to him. As they did, with Cho'gall coming along as well, Gul'dan hastily addressed them, "enemies of the Horde are approaching us, and it won't be long until the elves swarm from their forest to stop Doomhammer from burning it, I must go and warn the Warchief to expect an attack from the rear, this," he indicated Nobu'tan, "is my apprentice, Nobu'tan, you will obey him and he will teach you several basic spells to power you further before you all need to march to our position, I want those ogres who did not yet have the ritual performed on them to come with me."

There was a great swelling of murmurs among the gathered ogres, and the magi took charge, issuing commands to their denser brethren, until at last the brutish ones lumbered away toward Doomhammer's camp. "I'm putting a great deal of trust in you, Nobu'tan, do not fail me," Gul'dan said before departing.

"Don't worry master, I haven't yet." The human child responded with a wry grin. Gul'dan couldn't help but chuckle as he departed for the camp of the Warchief. Even if it meant actually helping the Horde for the time being, having his apprentice back was more than compensation for dealing as Doomhammer's lacky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cho'gall watched with disdain as Gul'dan departed. The Twilight Hammer Chieftain had seen how casual and even downright doting the orc had become with the human, only after a few weeks of separation. Was Gul'dan becoming soft? Granted that was not a theory he was willing to test, but it still galled the Ogre mage to watch the tiny human running through the basics of warlock magic with the thirty or so brand new ogre magi, who watched with fascination and almost obsessive patience, some even trying to mimic the boy in the effort to perform the spells themselves. Turning to depart, Cho'gall thought he would rally his clan instead of watch this spectacle. He was Gul'dan's apprentice as well, but the old orc didn't pay nearly so much attention to Cho'gall anymore, and that had shaken his faith in the orc's promises.

Would they really find great power deep under the seas of this world, or was that just more of Gul'dan's ploys to keep stringing Cho'gall along, playing puppet to the orc's grand play. It may soon be time for the ogre and the orc to part company, if things went south after this battle. It was clear that Doomhammer would not approve of Gul'dan departing the front lines now, not when they were so close to the human's capital, but would the Warchief send warriors to hunt the warlock down when they deserted. Gul'dan didn't think so, but Cho'gall wasn't so optimistic.

Upon reaching the camp of the Twilight Hammer Clan, Cho'gall was approached by one of his ranking commanders, who saluted by slamming a meaty green fist to his chest, "What are your orders, chieftain? Do we form up with the Blackrock or Stormreaver clans?"

"Stormreaver, commander," the Ogre Magi replied, gesturing with a sigh, "after the upcoming battle we will remain to protect the Stormreavers as well as they make full use of the Altars of Storms that Chieftain Gul'dan has created for the Horde's use."

"Yes Chieftain, by your word." The orc replied, moving out to rally the warriors of the clan and march them into position alongside Doomhammer's and Gul'dan's fighters.

They may remain allies of the Horde for the time being, but Cho'gall was starting to think that, in time, he would need to start looking out for the welfare of himself and the Twilight Hammer over anything else. Standing beside Gul'dan when they arrived, Cho'gall silently watched as the pair of orcs had their little power play, with Gul'dan intentionally pushing Doomhammer's buttons with his withholding of specific, small pieces of information.

Peons and some of the Blackrock grunts were running about the edge of the trees, setting the forest alight, letting great plumes of smoke fly into the air, signaling to the oncoming human and elf forces where they were, and at the same time distracting them from the real prize of the Altars of Storms.

Cho'gall was the first to spot the Alliance army assembling far off from the edge of the forests, and both of his heads smiled slightly at the blood and chaos that awaited him in this battle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khadgar was aghast at the evil magic that permeated throughout the edge of the Eversong Woods, in addition to the physical fires that were turning the sky red with ash and dust.

Somewhere among the fire and literal sea of orcs, dark magic was brooding, like a festering wound, but Khadgar couldn't see any particular source for it. Regardless, it put the Archmage on guard. The others however, were not as aware of the added dangers and only could focus on the orcs and the fires.

"We have to stop them!" Alleria cried, spinning to Turalyon in her desperation. "We need to stop them!"

"We will," he replied turning to the herald, "Inform the unit leaders, we ride north until we are level with the orcs. Then we will charge, taking them unawares. Also, warn the men to gather water as best they can, and detail several units to put out those fires. We don't want the forest burning down around us."

Even before the Herald turned to relay his commands, Turalyon had already rounded on Khadgar, "Can you do something to stop the fires?" he asked hastily.

Khadgar nodded, "Will a thunderstorm suffice?"

"As long as the lightning does not find any more trees, yes," Turalyon replied, jumping his attention once more to Alleria, snapping at her to get the ranger's attention. "Take your rangers and go. Go! Your brethren are no doubt already fighting the Horde somewhere in the forest. Find them and let them know we are here. We need to coordinate our attacks or the Horde will crush your people within the trees and then smother us without."

The female elf was clearly in shock from the burning of her homeland, as she was staring blankly through the paladin. "Now!" he snapped, clearly hating that he had to treat Alleria so harshly. "Or are you too slow to make it to the trees safely?"

That did it, and the elf glared bitterly at Turalyon, before gathering her elves and charging down to the tree line and disappearing into them. Khadgar remained behind as the entire Alliance column surged on to attack the Horde warriors. Meanwhile, Khadgar gathered his energies, forcing on the air around the forest's edge, gathering clouds and moisture to cause a localized thunderstorm to form over the fire. It was taxing, manipulating magic in such a way, but once the downpour started, the effects were instant, battling the flames while the Alliance clashed with the Horde itself.

After the spell was complete, and his magical strength exhausted therefore, Khadgar took up his sword and dashed after Turalyon to lend what aid he could now that the fires were taken care of. Indeed by the time he reached the battle the fires were all but extinguished, and he struck the nearest orc with both sword and staff, well enough contending with the brutish creature's skills with the axe, not that Khadgar would prefer to use mundane weapons except when he lack any other choice.

Thankfully, it seemed that Alleria and her rangers had moved swiftly indeed, as arrows started to fly from the trees, and the lithe woman reappeared. "I can see I got here just in time," she commented as she reached Khadgar and Turalyon, "What do you do when I am not here to save you?"

"I manage," the paladin joked, casually blocking an attacking orc with his shield before smiting it down with his hammer. Alleria put a pair of arrows into another charging green-skin as she sidestepped close to the pair of humans. "Did you find them?" Turalyon asked.

"I did," she confirmed. "And the entire council has agreed. Already the warriors and rangers are mobilized. They can be here in ten minutes, if here is where you want them."

"Here is as good a place as any," Turalyon replied, "And as long as we are here to fight them, the Horde isn't going anywhere."

Alleria nodded. "I will run back and inform them. You have only to hold fast until they arrive." Something was off, but Khadgar had to fight off a pair of axe wielding orcs and couldn't try to see what was wrong with the elf. But the time he could look, she had already departed, and Turalyon had returned his full attention to the battle around them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan smirked as he felt the massive welling of magic that conjured the downpour ceased. The ogre magi were as ready as they could be to fight; having practiced some basic fire spells as well as scavenging the biggest orcish weapons and chained together pieces of armor as best they could.

The sky was still heavily overcast, which led to the best cover for the ogres to cross the distance to the battle unseen. When they arrived, Nobu'tan hung back, not wanting to get mistaken for a member of the Alliance forces with his purple robes of Dalaran still on, but still he sent a single ogre mage on ahead to scout, before gesturing for the rest to follow. Watching from the far sidelines, Nobu'tan was impressed with the scout's initial, and quite devastating, charge into the battle, batting aside whole knots of soldier with one swing of its weapon, and expelling flames from its free hand to incite chaos into the ranks.

Naturally the human's adapted to their new foe and eventually brought the ogre mage down, but it was of little consequence. What Nobu'tan did take notice of was the arrival of the elves, emerging to the very edge of the forest and after a moment spreading out to flank the orc mass of orcish warriors in between the two armies. The tide here was quickly falling out of the Horde's favor, just before the rest of the ogre magi arrived, thundering through the battlefield like a massive wave of power and destruction.

Gratefully, the ogres were indeed intelligent, and had seen what had befallen the scout, and were prepared for the counterattacks that the Alliance and elves tried to throw at them, and batted aside arrows and spears that went their way, bodily crashing into the elves and sending the much smaller soldiers flying.

The orcs rallied, surging around the ogre magi, and more from Doomhammer's command position swept into the battle. Spotting the green on their banners and armor, Nobu'tan guessed that Kil'rogg Deadeye and his Bleeding Hollow Clan had joined the fight. The human warlock, like much of the Horde, respected Kil'rogg immensely, his great age a testament to how strong he was as a warrior and a leader.

Nobu'tan only interacted with the great warrior once before, and had been impressed that the old orc did not view him with disdain like the majority of the Horde, but was more intrigued with what he called 'Gul'dan's masterpiece.' It might have been insulting, but somehow Nobu'tan had sensed that the orc had a decent amount of respect to give the warlocks and their power, regardless of the race of the magic wielder.

It seemed that even combine the humans and elves were overwhelmed, but then something made Nobu'tan look up. Gryphons, Nobu'tan had read a little about them and seen one or two while he was at Dalaran, but still, the figures riding them were dwarves and swooping down to counterattack the ogre magi. The two headed creatures, unaccustomed to the new threat, had no means to protect themselves as the lead dwarf crushed both heads of one of their fellows, toppling the ogre mage onto the ranks of orcs and sending its club flying.

But even as the gryphon riders were attack, there was another, much farther spec descending from high above. Nobu'tan strained his eyes, trying to see. It clearly wasn't anything bird-like, not with the way it was gliding well above the clouds. The dwarven gryphon riders must have seen it as well, as one of their number charged upward to contend with the rapidly approaching form. But even as they come together, Nobu'tan realized that the other figure was significantly larger than even a gryphon, especially when it devoured the dwarf and his mount whole.

It was a dragon. Nobu'tan raised his eyebrows, even more when he spotted the figure riding upon the dragon's back. It was one of the Horde's warriors. How on the world had Doomhammer managed to get dragons on their side, and even more how had he kept it a secret from even Gul'dan? Nevertheless, as the dragon swooped down over the line of trees, the Alliance soldiers started to flee, running away from the forest as the dragon began to belch flames.

Nobu'tan staggered slightly, sensing the need to get away from the trees as fast as possible. Then he spotted a second and third dragon swooping down to set the forest ablaze once more. Nobu'tan felt that his best move would be to fall back to the Altar's of Storms, and see of the Horde was rallying there. Most of the warriors were departing, even as the Alliance, elves and dwarves fled to the hills.

When he arrived, he found Doomhammer, Gul'dan and the remainder of the clans gathered there, most preparing to leave. Gul'dan and Doomhammer were speaking, and the Warchief looked far less than pleased, but Nobu'tan did not care. He was more focused on the newest arrivals of the Dragonmaw clan, their leader Zhulued striding past Nobu'tan without a glance to speak with Doomhammer.

Nobu'tan approached his master, even as the Warchief departed with the shaman. "What are our orders?" the orc raised human asked, smiling even as he saw Gul'dan's fierce grin.

"We're staying here for a time, seeing what powers the Alters will grant, and afterward we will need to speak on in a more private setting." Gul'dan replied, glancing back toward the Warchief. "It seems that Zhulued and Doomhammer had a hand in securing this victory. I think that the Dragonmaw will also be remaining to see about attacking the elves' capital city for a time, but they are of little concern to us.

"We cannot breach their defenses." the Dragonmaw chieftain said, possibly a little louder than he had intended, for both Nobu'tan and Gul'dan to hear, "Even the dragons can do nothing. Their fire washes over the city but does not touch it, and their claws are repelled by an invisible barrier they cannot break."

"It is the Sunwell," Gul'dan commented, turning back to add to the Warchief's conversation, "the elven source of magic. It gives them immense power."

Doomhammer looked somewhat resigned that the warlock might be an expert on the topic, and turned to address Gul'dan, "Is there any way to destroy it, or drain it, or tap it for ourselves?" he asked.

Unfortunately, Gul'dan shook his head, "I have tried," he admitted, "I can feel its power, but it is of a kind unfamiliar to me, and I cannot touch it." scratching his bristly beard however, Nobu'tan caught his master glancing momentarily at him, smirking for the briefest of moments, "However there may be alternate routes I can take to harness its magic, but still, it might be that only the elves can gain its power; it might be tied directly to them and this land."

"Can you use the Altars to break their defenses?" the Warchief asked next, and again Gul'dan glanced at Nobu'tan before answering, "That is one of the things I wish to attempt before leaving this place. I do not know if it will work, but the Altars are crafted from the elves' own Runestones, which were originally powered by the Sunwell itself. I may be able to use that link in reverse, sending my own magic, or another's, into their power source and either destroy it or wrest control away from them."

He smirked then; widely enough for Doomhammer to see, and the Warchief bristled but said nothing. It was clear that the other orc was aware which choice Gul'dan was shooting for, and did not like it in the slightest.

"Do what you can," he said after a moment, wave a hand casually at Gul'dan. "But breaching the city is secondary. We cannot get in right now but they cannot get out, either." He turned back to Zhulued then, "The same goes for your dragons. We may need them, particularly if the Alliance had more warriors waiting at Capital City. If you have not managed to break their barrier after a few more days, leave it and send your dragons to join the rest of the Horde."

Gul'dan and Nobu'tan left at that point, but were able to keenly hear the Warchief's last words, even if the other orc thought they might be out of range, "And make sure he and his warlocks accompany you."

"What now, Master," Nobu'tan asked as they returned to the Stormreaver camp, gratefully entering Gul'dan's tent and discarding the purple Dalaran robes in a heartbeat, going straight for his personal trunk for his own heavy orcish robes. It was cold this far north, and while magic was able to be employed to stave off the elements, it was far easier to just dress warmly and focus his energies on more important tasks.

"We wait until the Horde moves on, Nobu'tan," Gul'dan said, gesturing for and taking the book that Nobu'tan had acquired from the vaults of Dalaran. Thumbing through the pages, Gul'dan read the tight human script expertly, having taken great care to learn it himself as well as teach it to his apprentice.

"Intriguing," he said softly as he pursued the tome, "It seems that most magic users on this world have little to no concept of what demons truly are, or the powers that they give. Whoever was the original owner of this tome was quite clear that he was one of the last true warlocks among the humans, before the formation of the Nation of Dalaran and their Kirin Tor, who expelled him from the society of wizards and hunted him down. The fools, they kept the grimoire because they cannot fathom destroying knowledge, even of the blackest arts."

Gul'dan returned the book, "There is little here that I have not learned from Kil'jaeden himself, but you may find it most useful Nobu'tan, there is quite a bit of knowledge about demonic summoning and other concepts we have not had time to address yet."

"Thank you, Master." Nobu'tan said. He was about to ask more, but a magical presence, very powerful, announced itself well outside the Horde's camp. Looking to Gul'dan, Nobu'tan knew that his Master had felt it as well. "You Archmage friend has come to call it seems." Gul'dan mused, pulling at his beard in thought.

"Shall I send Cho'gall or some of the other Ogre Magi to deal with him?" Nobu'tan asked.

"No, this foe is too powerful for all but possibly Cho'gall, and for once I think I'd like to have some of the fun. Let us go together, and put this human in his place. There is time before we must make our journey back to Southshore, come."

Pausing to snatch only a few on his personal belongings, just in case, Nobu'tan rushed out of the tent to follow Gul'dan toward the surge of magic that was no doubt Kel'Thuzad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel'Thuzad waited patiently, knowing that Tobias and his orc master were near. Although he inwardly mourned at his own foolishness of taking the boy in so easily, he knew how he must make amends, even swallowing his pride and telling himself that he would go to Khadgar in the Alliance camp once this was finished. He would tell his fellow Archmage everything, which he felt would trouble the young man greatly, as he had been the one to recommend the boy to Dalaran. But only once this task had been completed first. Then together, both Archmagi could decide on what to do with Tobias and his treachery against his own race.

It had taken some time to follow the boy's trail from the eastern forests of Lordaeron, but he had managed it, the Archmage inevitably needing to follow the sounds of battle and the roars of dragons to find the aftermath of the skirmish on the edge of the Eversong Woods. It was a terrible tragedy, but there was a singular purpose for his coming here, and Kel'Thuzad continued to pursue the fiendish magical residue to the orc encampment.

Now that he had found their camp, he set himself up a good distance away, and started channeling magic through himself, as a beacon to any in the camp with arcane intuition, knowing that Tobias would sense him, as well as the powerful orcish magic user. They would come, it was to likely a trap that they would be unprepared, but Kel'Thuzad was one of the most learned of the Kirin Tor, and felt that he could contend with the magic of these demon-spawned orcs.

Soon he could make out two figures approaching, one larger and hunched while the other was fairly smaller. Good, the pair had come alone. It wouldn't be fair if they brought more magical warriors, at least to the orcs…

Readying his staff, Kel'Thuzad stepped forward to meet them both, looking balefully across at the grisly old orc that stood beside his former apprentice. "I see I was mistaken about you, Tobias Banu, if that's even your real name…" he said slowly, sizing up the pair as he prepared for a fight.

"So you did…" the orc replied, catching Kel'Thuzad off guard slightly. He was not aware that the creatures spoke the common tongue, let alone with such eloquence. "But what you did not figure was the foolish venture of following my apprentice back to me…" the orc added, grinning slightly and showing his mouthful of sharp and jagged fangs.

Kel'Thuzad cringed unconsciously, the wafting of the blackest of magic he had ever witnessed emanating from the orc before him, causing the Archmage to rethink how he was going to defeat them. Drawing from his deep stores of learning and study, Kel'Thuzad quickly began to apply himself to the first major problem, separating the orc from his apprentice.

Despite the fact that he was more powerful by far than the human child who may have been called Tobias, two mages on one still were bad odds. He had to eliminate the boy immediately to even up the battlefield and allow him to focus all his attention on the greater threat. Luckily, he had a spell in mind, one that was about a rare as it was powerful. Tapping into the little stone on his belt, one that would transport him directly to his personal chambers in Dalaran, Kel'Thuzad started warping the energies, aiming them as the boy and hoping that his home was truly far away from here.

Meanwhile, he continued talking, trying to stall for time, "So, you coming to Dalaran was all just a ploy to lure out an Archmage for your own games, was it?"

The orc laughed, and Tobias smiled cruelly at Kel'Thuzad, confident beyond anything the Mage had seen while at his true Master's side. "No," the orc replied, "Your presence is more an annoyance than anything else, wizard. I wanted to know the strength and power of your nation, as well as what they knew of our powers, which is surprisingly little from what I've learned. It will be a simple matter once were finished razing Quel'Thalas to ravage your city, lay waste to this world, and open portals to thousands more for the Horde to conquer."

Kel'Thuzad just stared at the raving orc, so power hungry and mad that he would contract with demons, let alone with his entire race. "But then why take on a human as an apprentice…" he asked, genuinely curious, and the orc paused in his monologue, sensing that the Archmage wanted to know.

"That is an interesting question, and finally phrased in a way that I can answer…" the orc responded, stroking his beard with one hand. "This one is destined for greatness and a power all of his own, who better to guide him than I, Darkness Incarnate!" And to Kel'Thuzad's surprise, the pair attacked instantly, catching the Archmage off guard.


	6. C5: Separation and Reunion

**Well, here's a long awaited chapter! R &R, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Five**

 **Separation and Reunion**

Gul'dan lashed out with green fel flames, even as Nobu'tan threw a bolt of shadow at the Archmage, who flinched for a split second before dodging both attacks, responding with a jet of his own fire, which Gul'dan blocked with a powerful shield of necromantic energy. He grinned again at the wizard, before quickly returning to the offensive, hoping to end this bout quickly and return before the Horde left for Capital City.

The Mage however, wasn't so willing to just die that easily, and artfully wove his own spells and enchantments to protect himself, while targeting Gul'dan specifically with his own destructive magic. It was curious how the wizard all but refused to potentially harm Nobu'tan, despite the boy's clear and obvious betrayal of him and all the things he held dear. Stranger still was how the man had grown attached to the boy in less than… what, two weeks, three at the most, that Nobu'tan was in Dalaran.

Not that Gul'dan doubted that it could easily happen. Nobu'tan had an air of charisma about him that orcs distinctly lacked; one feature of his heritage that Gul'dan actually granted was a veritable strength for the boy. But this was an entirely different level of affection… or was it? Gul'dan started to pay attention to the other human more as they fought, spells washing over shields and sailing into the ground around them with enormous explosions and erupting fires.

The wizard's face was stone, when he looked at Gul'dan, but whenever the Archmage had to deal with Nobu'tan's attacks, even if they were pitiful in comparison to the magical might of the other two combatants, there was a look of pain, naturally, but also intense greed.

So that was it… this Archmage had seen what Gul'dan had all those years ago, that Nobu'tan had power to master all forms of magic given to him, absorbing it like a sponge and feeding off the magic of the world around him; terrible and wondrously different from both Gul'dan and this Archmage in the same respect. They had to draw magic to them, wrenching it from the fabric of the universe, while Nobu'tan lived it; was literally a part of the tapestry of magic from the day he was born, like a proverbial silver spoon of magic in the babe's mouth that even he, Gul'dan, had had to claw his way over the broken bodies of his foes at achieve even a fraction of.

Jabbing two fingers at the Archmage during his moment of distraction, a crimson bolt of jagged lightning launched from Gul'dan, rippling past the wizards and shredding the front of his robes, exposing the pale, pinkish skin beneath. Unfortunately unharmed, the mage staggered back, before coming to a decision, and hastily drawing an item from a pouch on his belt.

Gul'dan wasn't sure that the little stone would do, but it was practically humming with magic, and was moments from activating. With all his strength, the mage threw the stone at Nobu'tan. The boy wouldn't see the threat the way Gul'dan did. Something deep down in his very center told him that this could spell disaster for him and his apprentice. Drawing deeply from his connection to the Twisted Nether, Gul'dan focused a blast that ought to have ripped the stone out of existence into the cold dark of the void, but somehow, the unimaginable occurred.

Once the spell made contact with the stone, a dazzling blast rocked the area where they fought, sending both warlock and Archmage to the ground from the concussive force. There was the sound of air being drawn into the lungs of a dragon, and a great gust of wind whipped them around just in time to see Nobu'tan, his face frozen in surprise and fear, vanish from their sight into an open tear in the universe.

Gul'dan froze, his cold heart clenching in his chest. Had he just killed his own apprentice, a boy that he had raised and actually grown fond of like a son? Turning slowly to face the Archmage, fury and anger like nothing he had ever felt rose from within him, and pure malicious chaos started to swirl around him as he prepared to end this wizard's existence.

Moments before he fired his blast of pure chaotic energy, the wizard made several lightning fast gestures, and arcane magic took him, teleporting the wizard far from Gul'dan and the explosion of power that annihilated the place where he had crouched previously. Gul'dan roared with fury, slamming a fist into the ground. Nobu'tan was gone, likely dead in the void of the Twisted Nether, and the wizard responsible escaped.

This affront would not go unpunished; Nobu'tan would be avenged, and Gul'dan would see Dalaran burn to the ground for it. The warlock remained there for a few moments, at the last place he had ever seen his most favored apprentice, before slowly making his way back to the Horde encampment.

By the time Gul'dan returned to the camp, the rest of the Horde was already on the move, marching south from Quel'Thalas to go over the Alterac Mountains and on to Capital City. Gul'dan watched, his anger still seething at the loss of Nobu'tan. Once the last departing orc had vanished from his sight, he turned to Cho'gall, who had come from the Twilight Hammer encampment to watch as well. "Are we ready?" he demanded.

The ogre mage's heads grinned, but Cho'gall seemed disturbed by something about Gul'dan even as he responded, "Ready."

Gul'dan nodded, trying to control and harness his rage instead of letting it consume him, "Good. Tell your warriors we march at once. It is a long way back to Southshore." Looking toward the forest to the north and the distant view of the dragons still trying to attack the elven capital, "Zhulued is occupied with that elven city, and will not even notice we have gone until it is too late."

"What if he sends his dragons after us?" Cho'gall asked, and Gul'dan had to suppress a flare of anger. After all this time had the mad ogre lost his nerve? Gul'dan did not care if the full might of the Horde chased after them; he needed Sargaras' power now, more than to just burn this world. If there was some chance, any chance, that Nobu'tan survived, Gul'dan would locate him out in the void of the Nether using the demon lord's own magic if need be.

His irritation must have shown, as Cho'gall fell silent for a time, before finally nodding both heads and turning to leave, "I will see to the warriors," he promised, and went to bellow orders at his own people.

Gul'dan remained behind; know that his clan would feel the urgency in the air from the angry magic that poured off their chieftain. Vengeance would be his, in the end, Gul'dan would be certain of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel'thuzad staggered into the Violet Citadel, carefully nursing several burns and other wounds with what remedies he knew from his time in the infirmary as a young man, but more so he was weighed down by the horror that he had, unintentionally, ended the life of a young boy that had had so much potential, and could have been so useful to Kel'Thuzad personally. It galled him that the warlock had been driven to such a rage at the loss of his apprentice, as though the orc was capable of actually caring about a human that much, and actually managed to chase away an Archmage.

But the boy was dead now, lost in the swirling void of the great beyond. Still, as Kel'Thuzad took the long winding stairs back to his chambers, himself now bereft of his personal Hearthstone to make the trip convenient, he had time to think of what solutions he could possibly make for the situation. He had learned, now more than ever, that there was magic well beyond what the Kirin Tor permitted the mages to learn, and the shadier aspects were more powerful than any led them to believe. If dark magic had banished the boy to his utter demise, could dark magic bring him back as well?

Thinking hard, Kel'Thuzad couldn't help but wonder how easy it would be to recall the boy's spirit from the dead and impart it to a new host body, like a golem or even another living vessel. It wouldn't be terribly difficult, for an Archmage at the least, to learn. Granted, such a thing would be branded Necromancy and be outlawed in an instant by the rest of the governing body, but what did those stuffy fools know about anything but their learning and supposed wisdom anyway.

Kel'Thuzad was a man of action, not words and windless mutterings. He would bring Tobias Banu back from the dead, return that marvelous magical power to this world, and continue with his plans to make the boy great, thus allowing Kel'Thuzad to claim prestige enough to lead the Kirin Tor, and at last the way would be cleared to do away with these petty bans on magic deemed too powerful for anyone to use.

Granted, as simple as it would be to learn, there was indeed much to be learned, and not much of the information was kept in Dalaran anymore, as the Archmagi of prior years had long since taken to destroying as much 'black' magic as they could, in every effort to handicap those whose power would eclipse their own.

This meant that Kel'Thuzad had years of research and careful planning ahead of him, a long game to play in order to achieve his designs. But he was patient; after all… the dead were not going anywhere, were they?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan felt an explosion of pain accompanying the sensation of being thrown with great force, before the splintering of wood and a blinding flash of light filled his senses. He lay on the ground, or what he thought was the ground, for some time, holding himself from where he had struck some object painfully, and allowed the sensation of falling and spinning to dissipate. It took an extremely long time, and Nobu'tan wasn't sure if he passed out once or twice along the way.

Soon enough his eyes did begin to clear and he was able to look around the room of some sort of building that he had been teleported to. From his days of exploring the ruins of Stormwind, he guessed immediately that this was some sort of human dwelling, possible the room of a child, what with the smaller than average objects that littered the floor, but it was of a make and design that completely baffled him.

There were no torches lighting the place, and everything seemed to be crafted by magic, they were so exact and well made, sharp corners on furniture and nicely tailored linen. Or at least, it had been at one time, before something catastrophic had occurred here. Nobu'tan could sense older magic that had worked in this room, blasting a massive hole in the far wall, exposing the room to the sky above.

It was night out there, which was disorienting enough for the orc raised human, as he had just been out in the midday sun of Quel'Thalas what felt like mere moments ago. Still, as he glanced around the room again, something about it felt eerily familiar, but not something that the warlock could place. Stooping to examine where he had just landed, Nobu'tan scooped up the object that Kel'Thuzad had thrown at him.

A small whitish stone, with a blue rune carved within, signifying 'home'. "A Hearthstone, of course," Nobu'tan mused aloud, feeling better with his own voice than the stilted silence. But if this was a stone of returning, why had it sent him here, and not to Gul'dan's tent, the place he had called home his entire life?

Deciding quickly, Nobu'tan turned to locate an exit, and found a shattered door hanging loosely off metal hinges, and began to explore the building in detail. What he found was more confusing than helpful however, such as the somewhat scorched pictures on the walls that were actually moving on their own, each containing some combination of a very familiar looking human male and female, along with a tiny baby. Occasionally three other human men would be in this or that one, obviously close relatives or friends of the couple and their young child.

He was able to at least determine that it was a residence building, but the thick layers of dust suggested that it had been abandoned for a long time. Wandering from room to room, Nobu'tan stopped in confusion time and again at all the strange devices that he discovered, such as a small tube of metal that curved up and over from the back of a large eating room, that poured water like a personal fountain when one of the little knobs on either side were turned.

There was another, far smaller room that had a similar feature, along with what appeared to be a narrow pool with a covered lid. Nobu'tan hadn't a clue what these were for, but they weren't magical, so it couldn't have been for a terribly important use. He turned to leave, and almost startled himself when he saw something that he had at least been remotely familiar with, a mirror.

He hadn't had much opportunity, traveling about with the Horde and his master, to truly have a need for one, and while the other apprentices at Dalaran all had one, particularly the females, he had never had the opportunity to look into one for more than a few seconds. Seeing his reflection was rather eerie, and Nobu'tan took several long moments to study his own face, from the somewhat gaunt cheeks from long marches with little food, to the massive nest of unruly hair. Piercing green eyes cut through the gloom, an almost unnatural gleam in them from the levels of magic he had within himself.

Nobu'tan felt drawn to one thing in particular about himself however, something he had felt while casually touching his face but never had had opportunity to examine in detail before, the jagged scar on his forehead. Not even Gul'dan had been able to tell him where he had gotten this scar, but for some reason Nobu'tan felt that this small cut was very important, and had something to do with why he was here now.

Quickly turning one of the fountain's knobs, Nobu'tan relished the cool stream of water that spilled out before carefully wiping at the layers of soot, dust and sweat that caked his face, trying to get a better view of the scar itself, when he heard a sharp, whip-like crack from outside the building. Hastily dropping into a defensive crouch, Nobu'tan darted out of the room, knowing that it was a tactically poor place to defend himself from whom or whatever had appeared.

Darting into a much larger room, Nobu'tan heard the door that led outside creak open, and an older voice call out something in a language he didn't understand. It sounded human, but it certainly was not the common tongue spoken by the people of the Alliance. Perhaps a regional dialect he was unaware of?

It was clear that people weren't meant to be in here, and Nobu'tan did not feel like being caught trespassing, but even as he turned to the small window to try and pry it open and escape, he shuddered as a wave of magic washed over him. A mage, the last thing he needed to run into. At least it didn't feel remotely like Kel'Thuzad's magic, so it wasn't his former master in Dalaran. Crossing to the window as he heard footsteps proceeding toward him, Nobu'tan tried with all his might to pry it open, but magic was holding it shut.

Growing angry, the orc raised human beat on the glass several times, but it wouldn't shatter. The door behind him opened, and Nobu'tan whirled, hands outstretched and ready to defend himself. But the old wizard that stood in the doorway did not wear the violet and gold robes of Dalaran, although they were the same ghastly shade of purple. The man looked some mixture of horrified, and relieved, and kept speaking in that strange human tongue, soothingly like he was trying to calm an animal.

Nobu'tan narrowed his eyes, whatever the wizard was saying, he didn't care. "Leave me alone!" he commanded in the human common tongue, and the mage stopped, looking extremely puzzled. And that worried Nobu'tan greatly. If this man didn't understand common, then where in the Twisted Nether was he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore jumped when one of the silvery instruments, once long ago keyed to track the movements of Harry James Potter, started to go berserk, so much so that it fell from its shelf and smashed on the ground of the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts school.

Hastily leaving his desk, where he was mournfully preparing the registrar of new students, which lacked the same child, Albus crossed to the smashed instrument and repaired it with a wave of the Elder Wand. It reformed, before starting to spin and whistle once more, "How can this be?" Albus mused aloud, almost disbelieving.

Harry had been missing for almost eleven years. From the time Albus had personally set the boy out on his relative's doorstep, something had happened that prevented this instrument from ever starting to work. Albus had checked, naturally, and found that the Dursleys had never even so much as seen Harry, meaning that some foreign party had snatched the baby from the doorstep that same night. It had hurt Albus greatly to know that the boy was gone, and it was his fault. The hundreds of things his brilliant mind had come up with as possibilities, not the least were raising the boy himself with help from the Hogwart's staff, and he chosen the one thing that had backfired. It had been a serious blow to his pride.

Still, riding on the hope that Harry had to be out there still, Albus had tried in vain for the past decade to find him, and return him to his native Britain. But there had been no leads, no clues, nothing. It was as though the boy had vanished without a trace.

But now, mere months before Harry was supposed to attend Hogwarts and learn of his magical inheritance, and on the boy's own birthday no less, this had happened. Harry was somewhere, out there in the wide world, and his instrument had finally picked out where he was. Albus was puzzled how the boy had reached Godric's Hollow of all places without him finding out sooner, but that would be a question to pose to the boy in person.

With all haste, Albus raced through the corridors, frightening several of his professors with the speed of his running, and tore across the grounds like one of their students of their way to Hogsmeade. Once outside the gates, Albus gathered his determination to find Harry like a whip, and spun, Disapparating with a titanic crack to the monument in Godric's Hollow. He did not care who saw him, secrecy be damned. Harry was alive and Albus would find him.

Quickly waving his wand, Albus located a presence within the ruined house turned monument, and ran to the door. Throwing it open, Albus called out, "Harry, are you in here?" but there was no response except for a rustle of movement from above.

The boy might have been hurt or afraid, so Albus thought nothing of the lack of communication. Going quickly to the stairs, Albus climbed, bypassing the bathroom, with a sink was still running, odd, but not overly concerning. Heading to Lily and James' bedroom, Albus heard the sound of someone beating on glass, and his heart pounding, opened the door, wand raised just in case.

A small lad, Harry's age, was there, was struggling to get past the ward's the prevented the windows from being opened, but he whirled to face Albus once the door creaked open. Albus froze, mesmerized as Lily's powerful green eyes held him, while James' face, covering in grime and filth but clearly recognizable, examined him warily.

"Harry," Albus breathed, hoping to calm down the boy, who looked ready to fight for his life, "you're alive, is it really you?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, before speaking something that Albus did not understand, something similar to Gaelic but choppier, and altogether unknown to Albus. It was clear that the boy did not understand a word of English either, as Harry did not relax, if anything he grew more on edge.

Albus shook his head, indicating that he did not understand. He tried again, much slower, hoping that Harry could at least understand the message if not the words. "Harry," he said pointing at the boy, "I'm Professor Dumbledore," he pointed at himself. "I'm here," he pointed at the room around them, "to help you," he clasped both hands and held them toward the boy.

Harry was studying every word and gesture, but it didn't seem to be sinking in. Albus considered Legilimency for a moment, knowing that he could transmit the idea behind his words instantly, but he wasn't sure if that would be deemed a threat by Harry and cause him to react badly.

"Well, if verbal words won't word, how about the written word?" Albus mused to himself, drawing his wand again, pausing as Harry flinched at the sight of the tool. Holding up his other hand to show he meant no harm, Albus wrote out in the air in fiery letters, ' _Harry, I'm here to help you, please trust me._ '

Knowing that this might not be enough, he also wrote the same message again in Latin, and in Gaelic runes, putting the full alphabets to each on the side in a separate section. Harry seemed fascinated, not by the words, but rather by the magic used instead. It took several moments before the boy figured out that Albus was still trying to communicate with him, and he began studying each of the letters in the three languages.

Lifting a hand, Harry began to write as well, green fiery letters forming under the Gaelic, somewhat close, but clear and distinct in their own right. Twenty six characters lined up under the Gaelic alphabet, which hopefully would line up letter to letter, followed by a section of writing under Albus' own message.

Checking carefully and translating in his own head, Albus read, ' _Who is Harry? And what do you want?_ '

Albus was torn between laughing and crying. He could communicate with the boy at last, but he had no idea who he was. Hurriedly, he began to hastily explain what he could, that he was Harry, and he had been missing for eleven years, but the old wizard stopped short after writing that the boy was Harry.

Harry had grown very still and quiet, and only then did Albus detect something off about the boy. Not quite a scent, but not quite a sensation, a wafting of darkness that often accompanied exposure to Dark Magic. Hesitantly, Dumbledore wrote out the question that had been plaguing him since first finding the boy. ' _Where have you been all these years?_ '

Harry read the message slowly, checking back to the translation to his language only a few times. Albus sighed as Harry started writing a response. It would be so much easier if he remembered a translation charm, then he could have Harry's word come out as English, but that was not available until he could check the Hogwarts library once again. But he needed to get Harry to the school first.

Harry had finished his response, and Albus leaned forward to read it. ' _If you do not know, then I know I am no longer home, and it doesn't matter anymore. What do you want of me?_ '

Again the boy was demanding what Albus wanted. Not terribly out of place given the situation, but Albus found the boy's persistence suspicious nevertheless. Instead he chose to possibly delay; things would be much easier if they could communicate verbally. ' _There is far too much to try and explain here and in writing, would you please come with me to where I can figure out how best for us to speak to each other?_ ' he wrote.

At first, Albus thought that Harry would refuse to leave, but after several moments the boy relaxed slightly and nodded. Sighing in relief, Albus took out a random object from his pocket, which turned out to be a marble, and enchanted it into a Portkey to take the pair of them back to just outside Hogwart's school. Knowing that it would take too long and be too difficult to explain what would happen, Albus just offered the marble to Harry, clasping his hand over the boy's when he reached to take it.

The swirl of blue light and discomforting sensation probably startled Harry, but the journey went smoothly, and moments later they landed in the grass outside the main gate of Hogwarts. Harry withdrew his hand as though burned, glaring at Albus for a mere moment, but the Headmaster of the school shrugged before gesturing at the castle, which redirected the boy's attention to where they were.

Albus wasn't expecting awe or astonishment, but he was pleased that Harry at least paused to take in the castle and the long sloping grounds for a moment before following him inside. A quick wave of his wand, and Albus knew the Minerva, Filius and Severus were the few Professors that were still in the castle, and he sent a quick Patronus to each of them to meet him in his office in ten minutes, while he made a beeline to the library, Harry managing to keep pace with him despite all the potential distractions of the ancient school of magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was definitely sure he could not trust this old wizard, but from what little communication they had managed he realized that without the human's help he would be lost in this world. He had also gathered from the man's words that he was no longer in Azeroth altogether, as the man hadn't mentioned the war, nor had the stars above looked anything like those from Lordaeron. He was well and truly alone here, stranded in a foreign land, and Nobu'tan had decided that he would be amenable with the old mage for the time being, until he could strike out on his own again.

The rather abrupt trip via magical teleportation was jarring, but the castle seemed interesting enough to distract him for a time, but Nobu'tan refused to let this mage out of sight for the moment, not until whatever the man promised to allow them to communicate was finished.

Through many various corridors and staircases the old man led Nobu'tan, finally ended their trek in a library, with quite literally thousands of books sprawled out in a plethora of shelves. Without even looking, the old wizard waved his little wand and a tome from the far back flew through the air to his waiting hand, and quickly the old man flipped through the pages to the spell he desired. Turning back to Nobu'tan, the old man waved his stick again, muttering spells. Small jets of light soared around the boy and old man, and Nobu'tan felt something inside his mouth alter.

"What in the…" he said reflexively, and the old man smiled, having clearly understood him at last.

"It seems," the wizard replied, Nobu'tan hearing a rough attempt at the common language of Azerothian humans, "that the spell has taken effect. Whenever you hear the English language, it should automatically translate to your own, and vice versus."

"So, that's it then? A few quick words, no ritual, nothing?" Nobu'tan asked, slightly confused. For something of that grand an effect, he and Gul'dan would have had to prepare at least a ritual altar to focus their magic upon. "Just like that…" the wizard replied, smiling.

"As you have many questions Harry, obviously, we may go to my office, I have several of my Professor waiting there who would love to meet you, and can help answer any questions you may have." The old man continued.

Nobu'tan did have a great many questions, but he recognized the fact that this man, an Archmage clearly, had many things to do and see to that he was going to push Nobu'tan off to his subordinates for a time. Ironically, that suiting the young orc raised human just fine, as the old man made him somewhat uncomfortable to be around.

Glancing over the vault of records once again, he asked just one before they left, "does this magic work on the written word as well?"

"Sadly no, but there are other charms that can assist with that, but by and large I believe that you'll have to learn it all over again, Harry." the man said sadly. Nobu'tan was unsure why the man kept calling him Harry, and even more so why he sounded so sad when he spoke to him, but he let it slide for the moment, thinking he might get answers out of these people they were going to meet. If it were possible, it seemed that they were traveling upwards again even further, and momentarily Nobu'tan wondered how large the castle really was, or if it was magically expanded on the inside.

At last they arrived at a stone construct that lay at the end of a hallway, and the old wizard spoke some sort of magical password that made little sense to Nobu'tan. "Jelly Babies…"

But whatever sort of password it was, the construct reacted, leaping aside to reveal a spiral staircase the flowed upward on its own. Stepping onto the lowest step after the wizard, Nobu'tan felt a sort of finality as the stone guardian replaced itself behind them. The staircase led them up to an almost normal seeming wooden door, which the old mage opened without a pause.

Nobu'tan carefully stepped through, feeling an increase in the levels of magic within this room alone compared to the rest of the castle, but it still was rather cold compared to the world of Azeroth, and it added to the feeling of loneliness that Nobu'tan was feeling. Inside were three people, just as the old mage had promised.

The first he noticed was an older woman, who upon looking at Nobu'tan seemed like she wanted to cry, a diminutive man who reminded Nobu'tan of several goblins that he had met once, and finally a tall sallow human that wore a permanent sneer on his face. Although at the moment, even this man seemed somewhat stunned at the sight of Nobu'tan, and it all confused him. Why did these people, who he had never met before even care about his existence?

As though reading the question on his face, the old wizard started making introductions, "Harry, these are Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Snape. They knew your parents…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus Snape was not a man often surprised, and it took a lot to get an emotional reaction from him regardless, but it came close when he arrived at Dumbledore's office only for the man himself to enter moments later with the long lost Harry Potter trailing behind him, looking like something out of the Middle Ages, smell included.

Any preconceptions that Severus had toward the boy's upbringing were instantly shot, although he wasn't particularly trusting of the way that Potter's eyes were darting about with a mix of confusion and suspicion. What had the boy gone through to act so distrustful? Normally Severus would expect similar behavior from his Slytherins, but this was well beyond childish paranoia and distrust.

"Well Harry," Dumbledore said as he sat behind his desk, "I'm sure you have many questions, as we have of you, so would you like to ask the first one?"

That caused Severus to raise an eyebrow, what did Albus already know, and why was he sharing this information with the rest of them. The answers came quickly as Potter started to speak in halting English that was clearly a translation charm in effect. "I don't know who any of you are, why you know me, and why you seem to care…"

Minerva seemed ready to burst into tears, while Flitwick seemed to need a moment and took one of the remaining seats. Severus went still and quite, hoping to glean every nuance from what was about to be explained, and hoping to learn why Potter was acting the way he was.

"My dear boy," Albus said slowly, "We all knew your parents, while they went to school here at Hogwarts, and well after that up to their deaths we all regularly spoke with them. I myself held you as an infant once or twice. I confess I had never seen a happier baby in my long lifetime."

None of that seemed to satisfy Potter's intrigue, but Albus didn't seem to mind, but pressed on with his own first question, "It may help us answer you if we knew where you've been these last ten years, Harry."

But the boy shook his head, "I wouldn't know how to explain it…" he said, and Albus nodded understandingly, "That's alright, how about how you came back to Godric's Hollow." He asked.

"I don't know…" Potter replied sincerely. Regardless of the truth of the matter, Severus could see Albus becoming frustrated with a puzzle he couldn't solve brimming. "Alright," he said, plastering the grandfatherly mask on, "How about you explain how you already have such a firm grasp on your magic, who taught you to use it?"

Potter was simply silent, but seemed to be withdrawn slightly at some memory, possibly painful. It was hard to tell and Severus presumed that this soon Albus would not want him to try Legilimency, least of all in front of McGonagall and Flitwick.

After several moments, Albus sighed, "All right Harry, you probably need rest and some food now, right? While these questions are very important, we may try these again tomorrow, maybe show you around some of Hogwarts and maybe the village as well."

Potter nodded slowly and Albus turned to Severus, "Severus, would you escort Harry to the Hospital wing and assist Madam Pomfrey in checking him out, getting him clean clothing and a bed. Rest is very important after all."

Severus nodded, understanding Albus' underlying irritation. The boy was only honest about one of those answers, he had no clue how he had gotten here, but he obviously dodged around the other two, where he had been and who taught him magic. But the question was why? What purpose could withholding that information from them serve?

But Severus didn't do anything regarding it, as he knew that Albus would never let this rest. The man was obsessive in his need to have information, all the better to predict and control the outcomes of events after all.

Leading Potter to the Hospital Wing, Severus momentarily abandoned him to the ministrations of Poppy, who had him out of his clothing and spelled clean in a heartbeat. There had indeed been layers of grime and sweat all over the boy, and the wolf fur cloak with heavy linen robes were a testament to the coldness of whatever weather that Potter had been living in. Checking the clothing over while Poppy gave the boy some food from the kitchens, Severus gleaned a few interesting things. The handmade stitching on the robe was expertly done, even for a homemade garment, the same with the fur cloak, which was of some type of massive beast that Severus had never seen before, and that was something because wolf parts were a very common potion ingredient for a wide variety of purposes, so he had seen many different breeds of wolf.

But this fur was strikingly thick and strong, despite the process in which it was prepared, crude but efficient, obviously done by a master of the craft, but it was still an extremely odd material and method to be used in the modern age. The contents of Potter's pouches and robes were equally strange and unusual. Granted, some things were a typical boy's possessions, rocks and small shiny things that were collected for various sentimental reasons.

But then Severus would come across some strangely glowing jewel or piece of bone that were just out of place among the other items, finally ending with a book written in a language that Severus did not recognize, let alone read. There was also a wand, but the wood was not one that Severus had encountered before either. It seemed everything about the boy was designed to baffle and confused him, but finally he replaced the boy's items where he had found them and turned to assist Madam Pomfrey.

The nurse was waving her wand over the boy, who shuddered every time she cast a spell but otherwise allowed her to perform her checks and other diagnostics as he ate. Stepping up beside her, Severus caught the look of annoyance and intense concentration on Pomfrey's face. When she had finished, Pomfrey retreated back to her office, Severus following quickly behind.

"I've never seen such a thing before," the woman stated as Severus closed the door, "That's boy's own magic levels are off the chart, not even Professor Dumbledore has this much latent magical ability."

"What does it mean though?" Severus asked.

"Well, firstly, Potter has absolutely no physical or mental failings; he is in perfect health, his own magic sustaining and healing him. Secondly, and possibly more importantly is that he has been, wherever he was, surrounded by intense magic for the majority of his life for it to leech onto him to strongly. I imagine that he will be performing great feats of magic with even the simplest spells. I hope to not see him in here again for some sort of magic related accident…" she added with a pointed stare.

Severus just shrugged, "I have no control of his other classes, as you are well aware. But if there are no medical complications, I believe we can just allow the boy to rest…"

"There is something else," Poppy cut across Severus, causing him to pause, "Were you aware of the amount of Dark Magic in the boy's system?"

Severus paused for a moment, "Well, he was attacked by Voldemort when he was an infant after all." but Pomfrey was shaking her head.

"This is significantly more than just a curse scar," she chided, "That boy has actively used dark magic for years, whatever his reasons were it is beginning to affect him. Naturally as I already stated his own high magic levels keep him from showing any of the ill effects but I assure you they're there."

"I will inform the Headmaster, expect him by sometime tomorrow for the boy." Severus said, turning to leave once again.

The boy had a pensive look as Severus left the Hospital Wing, studying the room around him, his food long gone. But that was not Severus' problem, the boy could communicate now, and Pomfrey was in charge of the infirmary, not Severus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan watched as the sallow, angry man left him alone in the strange room filled with beds and medical things. While the pair of human magi thought they were in private, hiding in the other room while they spoke of him, Nobu'tan had used some of the tricks Gul'dan, and later Kel'Thuzad had taught him, increasing his hearing so that even their softest tones were audible for him.

So, they were concerned about his practices as a warlock, calling it 'dark magic' and treating it as though it was some evil thing. Such was the same problem with the wizards of Dalaran, and even Ogrim and many of the Horde. They hated that which they couldn't or felt too superior to wield. So he had to be careful when he chose to resume his personal studies of the powers of the Twisted Nether. He wondered for a moment if they even cared about his learning as a mage, or if he was free to pursue those studies at will.

He had also noticed, as the female wizard had been poking and prodding him with her magic but clearly causing no harm, that the sallow man had rifled through his belongings with no cause or care for privacy. Nobu'tan could only presume that he was indeed a prisoner here, regardless of what was implied by the Archmage of this school. However, once night came and the female wizard retired from watching him secretly, Nobu'tan arose and crossed to the large window of the room. It had no methods of opening, not that Nobu'tan was foolish enough to try and escape that way, but it did give an excellent view of the land around, up until the nearby forest.

Ley lines were plentiful here, but whether they were natural like in Quel'Thalas, or artificial like Dalaran he wasn't sure. But regardless it was a powerful source of magic that for some reason these mages didn't seem to tap into to augment their powers. It was something for him to look into, seeing as he required tools and several rune stones to effectively access that magic himself. A tricky ritual of magic, but something that Gul'dan had felt could come in handy for him at some point or another. Apparently he was to be proven right, like all the other times he had given Nobu'tan specific instruction


	7. C6: Birthday Requests

**So, almost forget about positing, with my busy day, but still remembered at the last minute... Anyway, the story continues. R &R, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Six**

 **Birthday Requests**

Albus arose with the sun the next morning, knowing that many things had to be prepared to just the right calibrations for his trip out to Hogsmeade with Harry. Much went into the summers to keep Hogwarts kept up and ready for the next September, and quite a few of those couldn't be done until the last two months prior, wards that had to be set in exactly the right phase of the moon, with the right amount of time before hundreds of young witches and wizards could unconsciously power them by merely their presence, and so on.

Therefore, even with his early start, Albus had no time to go down to the Infirmary and collect Harry for their little trip until almost noon. Even still, Albus approached the large double doors with more than a little apprehension. Severus had informed him in great detail of what Poppy Pomfrey had discovered during her cursory examination of the boy, and the vast amounts of Dark Magic were frightening, to say the least. Severus had hinted from his personal experience that one did not acquire that much residual darkness from merely being around evil magic when it was cast, but by performing it personally.

Having none other as his personal Dart Arts expert on hand, Albus was inclined to believe Severus, but hoped that there was still some good left in the boy, and he expected to see much of how Harry behaved while they were out on the town. Perhaps if Harry surpassed his expectations, Albus might take him out again soon, possibly before school started. And then there was the boy's birthday to think about, which had passed just the day previous. Harry didn't even seem to know, the poor lad! Albus knew that he's have to make sure that something was done to note the occasion, and instruct Harry on the importance of growing older and wiser.

Entering the Hospital Wing after gathering himself, Albus was pleased to see that Harry had obeyed the Matron's words exactly, and had not moved from his bed, except to change into clothing transfigured to match the style of the day. "Ready to go, Harry?" Albus asked, and smiled at the confused look on Harry's face. "Of course, of course…" he'd have to teach Harry the translation charm quickly after the boy acquired his own wand, if he was to keep up with his classmates.

Waving the Elder wand quickly, Albus repeated himself, and the boy stood from the bed, walking swiftly over to him obediently, albeit warily. Albus wished once again that Severus had been willing to do this errand for him, but the man was absolutely unwilling to have any more part of Harry's life than he had to, as a teacher. It would be most inconvenient then, Albus mused while smiling to himself, if Harry ended up in the man's house. Albus knew the signs, having been at the school for several decades. Abused and neglected children, if they were worth their salt as survivors, always ended up in Slytherin, as the Hat tended to see such survival instincts as ambition, which in a way it was, but that was irrelevant.

Albus did not care so much that Harry went into Slytherin, if that was what was destined to be, but rather worried about the other students who may not belong there that could influence him: the Malfoys, the Notts, and the other children who'd be grandfathered into the house because of their families and their ill conceived notions that they had to be in Slytherin to be ambitious. It galled Albus to no end that these adults would so willingly ruin their children's futures in the attempt to create miniature versions of themselves, as though their children were merely an extension of their own will instead of living breathing people of their own right. No, Albus would never judge a child based on the sins of their parents, but it was still an issue that Harry would be singled out if he went into Slytherin house based on hatred and malice.

Shrugging to himself, Albus guessed that they'd have to cross that bridge if it was built, and that it was best to focus on the here and now instead of worrying over the future that may not yet come to pass. Exiting the gates of Hogwarts, Albus glanced down at Harry, smiling pleasantly as he saw the telltale signs of a curious mind at work. Whether the boy could see the magical auras of the school and its grounds, or was interested in the greenhouses, the lake and everything else it did not matter, his eyes were wide as Harry tried to absorb every scrap of information he could.

Perhaps in time, when he learned he could trust Albus and the other staff members, he would ask a great many questions, and personally, Albus would enjoy sating the clearly ravenous mind of its hunger for knowledge. Perhaps Ravenclaw would be the boy's home in a month or so, among the intelligent, while no longer the wise as it once was. Personally, of the two this would be Albus' preferred choice, but he would not dare to alter a child's future by making the hat place them somewhere they didn't belong.

There were boundaries and rules for a reason after all, and even he must abide them, so long as they were just. As the pair entered Hogsmeade, the village was just started to bustle into full activity. Many people called and waved to Albus, and he nodded in return, making his way to a few of the shops that he personally needed to visit, while marking out in his mind those that he wanted to bring Harry to when his errands were completed.

Their first stop was Honeydukes, as Albus needed to refresh his supply of muggle candies for his office. In addition he figured that Harry probably had never tasted anything sweet before, from how he willingly and unflinchingly downed several of Severus potions the previous day, and he hoped to cure that horrible injustice to childhood as swiftly as possible.

With clear instructions to wander the shop and pick out a few things he'd like to try, Albus sent Harry off around the candy shop while he approached the front desk. Ambrosius Flume, the owner and proprietor of the famous shop frowned as he spotted Albus striding toward him, which was never a good sign. "I'm sorry Albus, but the shipment from London hasn't arrived yet with your muggle sweets, would there be something else I could interest you in for the meantime?"

Albus sighed, he did so love muggle sweets over wizarding, having had a long lifetime to try and categorize them all. Sugar and magic just didn't blend as well as most wizards thought, and the nonmagical sweets had excellent flavor and artificial tastes that, if anyone in the wizarding world actually accepted Albus' offer for a sweet in his office, would become an instant sensation. Of this Albus was sure, but the old adage that nothing good came from the Muggle world was still in force from long before Albus' childhood even to today, and that was quite depressing at times.

Harry arrived then, carefully carrying a few samples of sweets that he had found interesting, and Albus inspected them. The standard Chocolate frog was among them, as well as Cauldron cakes, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a Liquorish wand. "All excellent choices Harry," Albus said smiling, even more so at the reaction of Ambrosius at realizing that Harry Potter was in his shop.

"I believe I will have to pass on any other sweets for the time being, Ambrosius," Albus stated as he tried to pay for the few treats that Harry had chosen, "Perhaps we will take a small detour to Diagon and acquire some from the source for this month." Ambrosius wouldn't take his gold, demanding that Harry be given the sweets as a birthday present from him, and both Albus and Harry thanked the man before they departed.

As they left the candy store, Albus quickly rearranged the plans he had made to incorporate a trip to Diagon. Originally he was intending to save the great wizarding marketplace for a few weeks closer to the start of the school year, but if he was already planning to go, there was no reason to not get all the school purchases for Harry out of the way. He may have a small head start on his education than the other children, but at the same time he had to learn to read English still, and then there was the Translation charm that he had to master, so in the end it all worked out.

At the same time it meant there were significantly fewer things for them to visit in Hogsmeade, as far better stores were all in Diagon. "Small change of plans, Harry," Albus said slowly, not wanting to startle Harry when they apparated. "Some of the things I needed to get aren't in stock right now, but there's another, far larger market some distance away, if you wouldn't mind another apparation, there is more to see and buy there."

The boy, who was occupied with gingerly tasting the liquorish wand with a startled expression at the raw sweetness of the candy, looked up at him and shrugged. Albus held out a hand, and waited for the boy to take it. Once Harry had swallowed his current piece of candy and obeyed, Albus spun on his heel and apparated them both to the back section of The Leaky Cauldron, just in front of the opening to Diagon Alley.

Letting Harry adjust to the unpleasantness of the transportation, Albus crossed over and unsealed the entrance to the marketplace. "Welcome, Harry, to Diagon Alley."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan felt like his senses were being overloaded since they left the castle, from the many different sights simply blazing with raw magic, the confection that seemed made more for the surplus of strange taste rather than actual sustenance. Nobu'tan did not like the sweets at all, but he kept them regardless, as they did seem to reinvigorate his magical supplies that normally would have taken several days to replenish on their own.

If the place that they had been, Hogsmeade he recalled the Archmage naming it, was remarkable then this new location was overwhelmingly impressive. Sights and sounds and people everywhere, all humans, milling about as they apparently went about their personal shopping, whatever that entailed. The Archmage was apparently a very notable figure, as even here people called and waved to him, much as they had with the other village. Thankfully none paid terribly much attention to Nobu'tan himself as of yet, but there were a few, mainly the human children, who muttered and pointed at Nobu'tan, but the presence of the Archmage seemed to hinder people from approaching Nobu'tan directly.

There seemed to be just too many things to see and do that it was starting to be slightly overwhelming to Nobu'tan. Even Dalaran in all its insanity wasn't this packed and hectic. Some shops seemed far busier than others, but as Nobu'tan couldn't read the words printed on the various signs he wasn't sure what was sold where.

"Yes, well I was planning this trip later, but since we're here you'll need this," the Archmage said, producing a small golden key from his robe and handing it to Nobu'tan. He looked questioningly back at the wizard, but the mage just turned and started heading toward a large, white marble-like structure with a bronze, metallic door. But what intrigued Nobu'tan the most were the figures that flanked said door, wearing uniforms of scarlet and gold.

Goblins…

Nobu'tan had only had small dealings with the little green creatures back in Azeroth, mainly as a go between for his master, but he understood a small amount of their language and customs. Once a proud warrior race, the Azerothian goblins had decided that their interests would only be best served by remaining neutral and effectively mercenaries for hire. They're love of explosives was well known, and even the lowliest orcish grunt was well guarded against their wiliness, especially in games of chance when money was on the line.

But among everything, goblins respected a show of strength, so long as the other respected their own strength as well, which was a rarity for most races, and it seemed that the humans here were no different. The guards were bored, and glowered at the humans as they passed, even the Archmage, but Nobu'tan held their gaze, knowing it was wise to watch such a crafty and subtle creature.

That act alone seemed to change the attitude of the guards, and they exchanged a glance as Nobu'tan followed the Archmage into the structure. It was some sort of large vault system, much like the one that the Horde had raided in Stormwind before pressing up into Lordaeron, but suitably different in design, and far less human.

The old wizard approached one of the goblins sitting at a high desk, counting a stack of gold coins casually while making notations with a feathered quill on some parchment. "Good morning," the Archmage said pleasantly, but Nobu'tan recognized that the goblin detested being addressed thusly, as he merely turned and warily watched the pair of humans. "We've come to withdrawn some gold from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."

"You have his key I presume…" the goblin said irritably, as though the mage ought to have known that it was needed.

Nobu'tan showed the key, but did not give it to the goblin when the small green creature reached for it, behavior which the goblin took notice of but the Archmage overlooked. "There's also something I wish to claim from _the_ vault of which you already know of." He said pointedly, which caused even the goblin to pause. Nobu'tan's interest was piqued.

"Very well, we can send you both down separately for efficiencies sake." The chief goblin said, summoning two underlings to transport the pair down to what Nobu'tan presumed were caverns below the human friendly part of the establishment.

Archmage Dumbledore was taken first by one of the goblins, but once he had exited to a back room, where some sort of conveyance was waiting no doubt, the goblins halted Nobu'tan. "So long as Mr. Dumbledore is out of the way, we have a few important questions for you Mr. Potter, before we take you to your vault. This way if you please…"

The orc raised human narrowed his eyes, but nodded. The pair of goblins led Nobu'tan to a side office, where a third, more important seeming goblin sat behind a desk, looking up curiously as they entered. "So this is him?" the goblin asked, and the others nodded.

"Mr. Potter," the goblin said, gesturing for a seat directly across from him, while the other two goblins flanked the door, preventing any escape. "We watch everything that occurs in our bank from the moment a person enters our doors," the goblin began, "and we've grown quite unfortunately accustomed to how we are treated by the human wizards for many generations."

The goblin paused, scrutinizing Nobu'tan carefully, "But when one enters and shows us the proper respect of one warrior race to another, we take important note of it. And when that same someone is a person of great notoriety in the wizarding world as well, that is something that we cannot pass up investigating."

Nobu'tan thought he figured where this may be going, and leaned forward so that his hands rested on the desk casually, "And what do you intend to 'investigate' about me?" he said, baring his teeth slightly in a grin. The goblins paused, recognizing a thing that was only done in their own society. Nobu'tan blessed the Void that goblins here on this world were dramatically similar to those in Azeroth.

With a wave of his hands, the goblin behind the desk banished the other pair, who nodded before closing the door behind them. "It's clear that there is something different about your upbringing rather than the majority of humans, a level of understanding and… wildness about your magic that we cannot place," the goblin continued, shuffling some papers on his desk, "While you obviously will not, and indeed should not, reveal anything about that background, we of Gringotts will be watching your future with great interest Mr. Potter."

There was a knock at the door, and one of the goblins returned, carrying a small bag filled with coins. "These were taken from your trust vault, as your original purpose, but to fool the _great_ Albus Dumbledore, it takes some finesse. You keep your secrets close with him, Mr. Potter, and we will keep ours."

Nobu'tan smiled, slowly starting to sift through the pile of information hidden within the breathy words as he stood and departed with his pouch of gold. He waited on the main floor of the bank for several minutes before the Archmage returned, smiling pleasantly to the goblins who glowered at him behind his back, and they left.

"Did you enjoy the bank?" Dumbledore said cheerfully, and Nobu'tan nodded absently. There were a lot of half-spoken words and inferences from what the goblin had said, but that they mentioned keeping his secrets from this man plainly spoke volumes.

The wizard looked questioningly at Nobu'tan's thoughtful expression. "If it's too much for you Harry, we could come back at a later time…"

"No, just making sense of it all…" Nobu'tan said quickly, cursing the man and his near obsessive observance of him.

"Ah well, don't be afraid to lose yourself in the moment once in a while Harry. Sometimes the fun is half the adventure…" he said, just before stopping in front of a store, "Here we are, might as well take care of the most boring part of the trip first. Madam Malkin will more than take care of you; just tell her you're here for Hogwarts. I'll be just up the street getting a few things, and will be back before your finished getting sized and fitted."

Nobu'tan just nodded, happy to be away from the perceptive mage for more than five seconds again, so he could alone with his thoughts. Stepping into the shop alone, Nobu'tan was greeted by a squat human female dressed in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked before the young warlock had chance to even open his mouth, "Got the lot here… and another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back was a pale boy with pointed face with another attendee pinning up a robe that he was wearing. The human boy was trying to look over his shoulder to see them, but Nobu'tan didn't care. Madam Malkin naturally led him to a stool directly next to the same boy however, and eager to strike up conversation, the child started speaking almost instantly.

"Hello, Hogwarts too?"

"Apparently," Nobu'tan responded, uninterested in whatever the boy had to say, however this was an opportunity to get answers from an unbiased source, or at least less biased than any adult. Before the boy had a chance to continue, Nobu'tan changed the topic of the conversation quickly, "What do you think of the school?"

The boy paused, not expecting to actually discuss the school, but partially shrugged, trying not to throw off the tailoring of his own garment, "I never really thought about it, it's the only school in Britain, so it was natural that I would go there. My father did think about Durmstrang, but mother fought against him on that…"

"But what do _you_ think of what is taught there, the teachers, the whole experience?" Nobu'tan pressed gently, realizing that his window of opportunity was short, but at the same time the boy wasn't one that would like being pushed too hard or fast.

"Well… no one really talks about the subjects aside from the extra circulars, but we don't get to choose those until third year anyway, now do we?" the boy started, more com comfortable as he was the one speaking again, even if the subject wasn't himself, "but my father told me a bit about the core subject Professors, primarily that Professor Snape, Slytherin Head of House and Potions Master was by far the best out of all of them, and…"

The boy continued, but Nobu'tan stopped listening. There was little point, because the boy had already been heavily influenced by someone else's opinion, and hadn't sense enough to make up his own with whatever information was presented to him from apparently he vaunted father. There were a few useful and unbiased pieces of information. Professor McGonagall, which Nobu'tan remembered meeting briefly, albeit not getting a chance to speak with, was the stern Head of the Gryffindor House, who also taught the art of Transfiguration. Nobu'tan figured it was something akin to the ability to polymorph a target into various shapes, if the obsession with the spell in Dalaran was any indication.

The second piece was that Professor Flitwick, the half-goblin Charms Professor, whom Nobu'tan had also met, was fair but was also a renowned dueling champion, which was apparently a high honor in this world, even if the young warlock had no idea what it meant.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?" the boy asked suddenly, growing bored of the topic and wanting to change back to speaking of himself. Nobu'tan had no more use for him, and still couldn't leave, so he allowed the boy his entertainment for the moment. "No, not yet…" he responded.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been… Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Nobu'tan gave a noncommittal noise, sensing the Archmage's presence as he returned, and instantly silencing himself. There was nothing he was willing to trust with this man currently, even innocent things like this conversation. "Ah, here you are Harry," the mage said without a care for those who realized who he might be in this world. The blond boy was speechless, mouthing the name of the Archmage and putting two and two together on Nobu'tan's supposed identity.

Before anyone could say anything however, the woman tailoring his clothing finished, and Nobu'tan stepped down from the stool and walked back to the front of the store, the Archmage and Malkin behind him. After paying for robes, the wizard directed them toward another confection shop, where the Archmage personally bought each of them a bowl of sickeningly sweet and cold 'ice cream' as the wizard called it.

Much like the other sweets, it was overwhelming in taste, but at the same time Nobu'tan's magic levels were empowered by it. "I rounded up the rest of the purchases for you while you were being fitted," the Archmage said softly, gesturing to an extremely small trunk at his feet. "All that is left that you need is your wand… and a birthday present."

That caught Nobu'tan off guard. "A what?" he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. He knew what presents were; Gul'dan from time to time would reward him with scrolls of demonic magic when he performed extraordinarily well at something in his studies, or for a successful mission.

"A present, for your birthday, it was just yesterday, the day you reappeared in Godric's Hollow." The Archmage explained. It was almost touching, that the man would recall such a thing, except for the nagging feeling in his gut that told him that he couldn't trust the man. But it was an opportunity to get something that normally he wouldn't have access to.

"I was thinking that perhaps you'd like a familiar of some kind, an owl perhaps…" the mage continued, much to Nobu'tan's displeasure. He had little fondness for animals, demons being more his desired companions and he honestly didn't see the appeal of something he'd actually have to care for. "I'm not too big on pets…" he said slowly.

"Well, what would you like to have for your birthday?" Dumbledore said, eyes glittering as he watched Nobu'tan's every move. It was a trap, the old man trying to pry personal information from him, but there had to be a quick way to both avoid the man's probing and get something of worth out of the situation.

"I'll think about it while we're getting my wand," Nobu'tan said, stalling for time. As they left the ice cream shop and made their way up the street, he made a show of looking around the alley for something to catch his eye. The shop that they approached was narrow and rather shabby looking. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window along with faded gold lettering that Nobu'tan couldn't read.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere deep inside as they entered, but the Archmage hung back while Nobu'tan walked inside. The sensation of magical auras were everywhere in the building, contained in long narrow boxes. Nobu'tan turned to glance at the Archmage, who was staring somewhere over the young warlock's head.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, startling Nobu'tan. An old man was standing right behind him, wide pale eyes shining like small moons through the gloomy shop.

Nobu'tan said nothing as he stepped back to get a good look at the man. "Ah yes," the man said after a moment scrutiny of the young warlock, "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you eventually, Mr. Potter. You have your mother's eyes…"

Nobu'tan instantly was on edge, not trusting this new person's powerful magical skill. It wasn't the same level of raw power as the Archmage behind him, but more refined, and it seemed to examine Nobu'tan right to the very core.

As the man continued to speak about Nobu'tan's biological family and their wands, he slowly gathered a few of the long boxes and laid them out on the counter. Gesturing to them, he opened the first box, revealing a wand lying innocently within. "Maple and Phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy. Try it."

Nobu'tan approached, gingerly taking the wand up from the box, it was warm to the touch, but was almost instantly snatched out of his by the mage and replaced, disappearing from sight as the man uncovered the next box. "Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out." the man said, pushing the next box closer.

And on it went for a short time, the store owner handing him wand after wand, stating the type, length and quality of the wood, Nobu'tan holding it for the briefest second before it was snatched away and replaced with another.

"Tricky customer, eh?" the man muttered to himself, "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere… I wonder, now… yes, why not… an unusual combination… holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

There was something odd about the man as he handed Nobu'tan this wand, and look equally disappointed when whatever reaction he was waiting for didn't happen. The wand felt warmer than the others for sure, but clearly it wasn't enough for this man, who took it away with a small frown. "Tricky indeed…" he said looking around for more boxes.

"Don't worry Harry," the Archmage said from a spindly stool near the front of the room, "Mr. Ollivander hasn't failed to find a good matching wand in well over a century, just be patient my boy."

"Here we are," Ollivander said, returning just then with another pile of wand boxes in his arms. "I feel confident about this batch…" the man said, lining up the boxes and withdrawing the first. Dutifully Nobu'tan continued for what felt like hours on end, until at last, the man pulled out a wand that visibly caught the young warlock's attention. "One of my older wands, blackthorn and dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches, rather rigid…"

The subtlest of magic pulls drew Nobu'tan toward this wand, and eagerly he took it from Ollivander's grip, relishing the flow of magical power that came into being. Bringing the wand up, Nobu'tan slashed it downward, leaving a trail of black and silver sparks in its wake. The two old men smiled at him, even as Nobu'tan refused to place the wand back in its box, instead stowing it away in his robes, before paying for the wand itself.

"Well, that was exciting," Dumbledore said softly as they left, "but you still have a birthday present to decide upon, Harry."

Nobu'tan remembered, the problem was the one thing he really wanted was currently denied him, he couldn't read their writing. "I'd really like to be able to read your writing, and then get history books, other things to catch me up on what's been going on."

Dumbledore smiled, clearly pleased with the choice. "Well, that can be arranged. Perhaps we could go to the bookstore while we're here, and pick up some history books, and then I'll research and cast the charm when we return to Hogwarts."

Nobu'tan recognized the trap instantly. So long as he couldn't read, he would have no clue as to what books the old man would choose for him until after he could read, if the old man ever got around to casting the charm at all…

There had to be a way for Nobu'tan to gage what books could be useful to him, and sneak them past the old man. The moment the entered the bookstore, Nobu'tan opened himself to the magical auras around him. Most were sadly rather benign and frankly boring, the people included, but even as the Archmage walked toward the front of the shop, Nobu'tan felt the subtle sensation of a more familiar kind of magic toward the back of the shop.

Carefully picking his way through the people and bookshelves while making sure to be out of sight of Dumbledore, Nobu'tan made his way up to the second floor and into the back part of the shop, bypassing a hanging curtain that seemed to divide the shop from the rest of the building.

Here, there were only a small handful of bookshelves, but the aura that Nobu'tan sensed was in a locked trunk off to the side. Knowing there were only a few moments before he was noticed to be missing, Nobu'tan conjured a small amount of ice in the lock, allowing it to grow and force the lock apart. There was more than enough noise downstairs from the standard fair of people to mask the sound as the trunk sprang open.

Inside, among other papers and books whose titles were illegible to Nobu'tan, there was a tiny tome and two scrolls that pleasantly buzzed with a slightly darker aura. Scooping these three into robes, Nobu'tan bid a hasty exit. It was likely that he'd be question about his absence, so as he sneaked back down the stairs, Nobu'tan grabbed a book at random that had interesting pictures on the cover.

As he came back into view of where Dumbledore was, he noticed that the man was indeed looking around for him, but smiled when he spotted Nobu'tan with the book he had picked up. "Here's a few of the more basic history books that are more recent than your schoolbook," Dumbledore said, "Enjoying the Tales of Beetle the Bard?"

"That's what this is?" Nobu'tan asked, not understanding the significance of the title. Setting the book aside, Nobu'tan looked up at the small stack of books in the Professor's hands, "So are we done then?" he asked.

"If you're ready to return to Hogwarts, we have everything that both you and I needed." the Archmage replied.

"I'm ready," Nobu'tan said, nodding.

Dumbledore simply nodded, handing Nobu'tan the stack of books and leading him back to the entrance to the Alley. The blasted man held out his hand once again, and Nobu'tan shuddered inwardly before obediently taking the man's man and experiencing the horrid sensation of being dragged through another person's teleportation.

Landing just outside the gates of the school, Nobu'tan had to struggle to maintain his feet and his hold on the stack of books in his arms. "Apologies Harry, side-along apparition isn't the most pleasant of things, but is very convenient."

After the wave of unpleasantness passed, Nobu'tan closed his eyes, centering himself in his magic before nodding that he was alright, and following the Archmage back to the castle. he wondered how difficult it would be to learn to teleport on his own, and if it would be as painful when he himself was in control. If Dumbledore was any indication, it shouldn't, which was reassuring.

At least now that he had things to do for himself, he hoped that the old man would leave him alone once in a while, and perhaps Nobu'tan could get back to practicing his connection to the Twisted Nether, as well as his Arcane powers as well. Finding somewhere alone and separated in such a large building shouldn't be that hard, right?

"I hope you haven't forgotten that there are many things I wish to discuss with you, Harry, regarding where you have been and with whom for the last decade or so," Dumbledore said abruptly as they entered the castle proper, which added a note of tension to the air. As if there was any way in the whole of the outer Void that Nobu'tan would dare to reveal his master or the extent of his powers willingly.

"To that end, I would like to have dinner with you in my office this evening to hopefully discuss a few of these items," the old man continued, "Until then, you're free to explore the castle, just don't leave the grounds. I will know if you do."

And with that the man simply walked away, leaving Nobu'tan alone, supposedly. The young warlock didn't believe that he would be left to himself so easily, and looked around for somewhere to actually go.

Setting off up the stairs, and taking a few turns at random, perfectly uncaring where he ended up, Nobu'tan actually hoped that he might get lost in the castle and just happen to be unable to attend the meeting with the Archmage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus watched as Potter took yet another unsystematic turn at an intersection, wondering why he had been so easily roped into spying on an eleven year old child by Albus. Then he remembered the fact that this child had the darkest aura he had ever seen short of Bellatrix LeStrange, Lucius Malfoy, and other high ranking Death Eaters, not to mention the Dark Lord himself.

Not that the boy knew how to hide his magical aura at all. Where ever he had been, such magic must have been unknown or accepted as normal. Severus had heard of tribes out in the African wilds that regularly practiced Dark Rituals, but that seemed unlikely given the wolf-like furs the boy had upon his arrival it had to be somewhere colder than that, given the extremely warm nature of the raiment.

After Dumbledore basically dumped the boy off in the entrance hall, Potter had taken to wandering the corridors, possibly seeking somewhere secluded for himself, an act that Severus couldn't blame for one so new to everything around him, but still. One couldn't just let a child wander off in a castle that was less than perfectly safe, and it was rather irresponsible of Dumbledore to do so, even if he knew that Severus would be keeping an eye on the boy, instead of the mountain of preparations that Severus ought to be working on for the coming school year in just a single month.

If the old man thought that Severus had ample free time to troop around the castle over the next month to watch the boy, he would be sadly mistaken. They all had so much to do, especially with the wards that had to be renewed at specific days and times in August, so many things that had to settle in just at the right time before students arrived. For Severus personally there were ingredients to be gathered at certain phases of the moon that he absolutely needed for N.E.W.T. classes, and a few for O.W.L. and below.

But hopefully Albus did realize this, and was going to have alternate means of watching the boy accomplished during the month of important work to keep the school going. They were on the Charms corridor now, and Potter was looking into random classrooms, simply observing in silence as he walked slowly down the corridor. Almost innocently in fact, but Severus didn't lower his guard.

"Well hello Mr. Potter," said a voice from one of the classrooms, and Severus caught the sight of Professor Flitwick emerging from his office at the end of the corridor, the diminutive Charms Master smiling at the boy as he approached. "Interested in Charms are we?" the man said, catching a whiff of the translation spell on the boy. Flitwick was obviously aware that the boy couldn't normally speak English, and therefore knew the reason for the charm, but Severus was grateful that at least something had Potter's attention and he would stop the annoying wandering.

"Actually, I rather am, sir…" Potter said slowly, as though the translation was taking a moment to decipher his words, "especially with the few that I need to be able to communicate…"

"Perfectly understandable Mr. Potter," Flitwick said happily, "You mother was a natural at Charms, and I have no doubts that if you apply yourself, you can be as well."

"I was actually wondering, sir," Potter said, bowing his head a bit at the mention of Lily, "If you'd be able to teach me the two charms I need to speak and read. Professor Dumbledore said he would, but he's so busy and I think he forgot about it…"

"Oh, that's rather unlike Albus to forget something like that, but I'm sure I can assist with those two, let's see, Translation Charm, and… Hmmm… possibly a sight base variant, but with a bit of Arithmancy to adjust… yes… lets go to my office, and I'll be able to sort you out, and give you instructions to work on in casting them yourself once you have a wand." Flitwick said, gesturing at his office.

Potter gladly went with the Charms Master and Dueling Champion, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief. So long as Potter was with Flitwick, his job was covered, and he could hypothetically run off to work in the dungeons for a short time, perhaps an hour at the longest, before checking back to see if Potter had left again.

And if the boy actually became friendly with the Head of Ravenclaw, all the better for Severus. It would be less likely that James Potter's son would be an obnoxious Gryffindor, and that would reduce the thorns in his side back to the original two that were the Weasley twins. Not that Severus disliked the two red haired boys; he just wished that they'd apply themselves to their class work as much as they did to their pranks, especially with how many were obviously Potion-based.

Before setting off however, Severus crept silently to the door, casting a small, nearly untraceable listening spell on the crack beneath the door, hoping to catch a few snippets of the conversations within.

"Well Harry," Flitwick was saying, and Severus could just see the small man standing on his stack of books before his desk in order to see over it, "I know it's only been a day since you've come here, but what are your impressions of Hogwarts?"

The boy made some sort of noncommittal noise, obviously deflecting the question rather than answer, but the Head of Ravenclaw wasn't one to press a topic if it wasn't desired by the other. "Ah, this will do it I think…" the small man said after a moment, and the hurried scratching of a quill was heard.

"Yes, this should do quite nicely, although it's not the most simple of charms that I've put together. It may take some time for you to learn to cast it, especially if you're brand new to spells in this manner. But I have confidence that something of this importance will give you the drive to succeed."

There was a small shuffle, then the sound of a spell casting, and Potter's mirthful laugher as he suddenly understood all the words of whatever book was before him. Severus felt he could walk away now, the boy was clearly in good hands, and not likely to wander off if the Charms Master was going to instruct him how to cast these translation spells and then give him books to read.

And knowing Filius Flitwick, that alone could take hours.


	8. C7: Starlight, and Moonlight

**Due to time constraints on my Tuesday life now that school has started, in addition to work and other activities, I may start posting on Wednesdays again, so if such a change happens, do not panic. Until then however, I will strive to continue to keep the updates as consistent as possible. Enjoy the new chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Seven**

 **Starlight, and Moonlight**

Nobu'tan gloried in his ability to read the English words of these humans at last. Every book he came across was a new and spontaneous delight to him. Professor Flitwick had given him clear instructions to practice both translation spells on a daily basis, and for the first few weeks, Nobu'tan had to go to the Charms Master and have them applied until he himself figured out how to make the wand work the way it ought to.

Spells were simply different here, instead of drawing on the power of the Twisted Nether, or the Arcane Ley Lines that permeated the grounds, even here if they were significantly weaker than on Azeroth, mages of this world looked inward, pulling the magic from their very beings to power their spells. It was strange, and left Nobu'tan feeling weaker whenever he cast to much or for too long, but it was still an interesting idea for a backup source of magic in case he needed it.

However, their concept of what was a useful spell was lackluster, especially with what Archmage Flitwick was having him play with, supposedly to 'build up' his magical core. Levitating things, turning useless objects into other useless objects, and making small things perform acrobatic stunts for his amusement. While Nobu'tan immediately saw the reasons, flexing his internal magic like a muscle, it still felt underwhelming after a short time.

The positive aspect of the time spent with the diminutive half goblin was that Dumbledore had effectively left him alone, after that first awkward and nerve wracking dinner where he had ducked and dodged every question regarding Azeroth and Gul'dan that he could. Unfortunately he couldn't escape not answering anything, so the old Archmage now knew that he had been with a group that had been fighting a war with some other group of humans, and their magical leader had taken him under wing as an apprentice.

But at least the important details such as the Burning Legion, or the race of creatures he had lived with, and what magic he had learned were not yet to be touched upon. Not that Nobu'tan felt that this wouldn't eventually be addressed, but if he could hold out just a bit longer while the old man searched in vain for groups on this planet that fit the description he gave, all the better.

Most of the other Professors were also preoccupied with preparing for the rest of the children Nobu'tan's age to come in the coming month, so the young warlock had had plenty of time to himself, studying in private all the history books of this magical Britain, and the magical theory of these mages. He was relatively impressed that Dumbledore had not tried to give him lackluster history books, but selected the very best, holding nothing back in either good or evil events.

It seemed that, even if Nobu'tan was effectively a prisoner here, the Archmage was first and foremost an educator, and would not turn away someone willing to learn more. That was a trait that could be exploited, and Nobu'tan hoped for many opportunities to do so in the future.

He had also managed, in between the darkest hours of night while the adults thought him asleep in the guest room they had prepared for him near the Charm's corridor, to be able to work with tapping into the Ley Lines around the castle, empowering his mage abilities to at last be able to progress in his self study of the arcane arts, and a small amount of the learning of the Void. While he had yet to summon any demons for a while now, he doubted that these mages would look fondly on that, he had made great progress in researching souls, and the effective ways to remove them from a living being for his own ritualistic use, primarily experimenting on small animals from the nearby forest.

Teleportation had also been a thing that fascinated him, and while the wards around the school prevented such practices as far as the wizard's magic was concerned, and he was not allowed off the grounds by order of the Archmage, Nobu'tan was confident that he could use the ley lines to transport himself anywhere he had seen before, which would make life significantly easier once he could leave the school on his own.

Soon enough, August gave way to the beginning of the month called September, and the long expected day that the masses of other children would arrive. Nobu'tan was instructed to wear his school uniform for the first time, and spent the majority of the day with Archmage Dumbledore as the man oversaw the last minute preparations of the school, including a trip to the kitchens to see what the house elves, who resembled nothing like the high elves of Quel'Thalas, were preparing for the feast that evening.

Some of the things he saw that day were interesting, like large runic arrays that powered various wards all over the school and grounds, to the long Arithmancy equations that the old man could write in earnest when a certain charm was malfunctioning and needed to be replaced. Sadly, neither of those subjects would be offered to him for another two years, apparently, and Nobu'tan had to content himself with personal study of the subjects. His free time was looking busier and busier as time went on.

Now he was waiting with Professor McGonagall before the doors of the Castle as darkness covered the sky, just as the first of the mass of new students arrived. She was putting on quite the stern face for them, Nobu'tan noticed, probably to transmit the message of how serious she and her subject were. The children looked appropriately nervous about their surroundings, but Nobu'tan focused on the mountain of a man that led them up the stairs toward himself and Professor McGonagall.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the man said, beaming down at Nobu'tan as he did so. Nobu'tan knew a small amount of this man named Rebus Hagrid, that he was keeper of the grounds and was overly kind and gentle, but nothing that really endeared the young warlock to him. He had strictly avoided the man's hut for no reasons other than to avoid having conversations that would waste his valuable time before the castle was swarming with eyes that would be less than approving of his magic.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take it from here," Mage McGonagall said, dismissing the man to slip into the hall from a side door and take his seat.

Meanwhile the female mage cast the doors to the Entrance Hall wide, allowing all the students, and Nobu'tan, access to the warmth of the castle as she led them inside, to a room just off the side from the Great Hall, where already the buzz of many voices could be heard.

Once all the children had crowded inside, Professor McGonagall took some time to speak to them all, regarding the houses and their rules. It was something that Nobu'tan had already read about, in his glorious first few weeks of being able to read, and he had most of the knowledge memorized by this point. The four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, were already well known to him by this point, as well as the four heads of House, Professors McGonagall herself, as well as Archmage Flitwick, another mage who was called Spout, and the sly one called Severus Snape.

Nobu'tan was already astutely aware which house he would prefer to be in, especially with Slytherin's current standing of producing many so called 'dark' wizards, and he'd prefer to keep Archmage Dumbledore's attention off him as much as possible.

McGonagall was turning to the doors, "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered on some of the boys, who looked rather disheveled as though they had dressed in a hurry. "I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly," she said before slipping from the room.

Quiet muttering began almost instantly after the door closed. Nobu'tan stood off to the side, not desirous to join the mass of human children his own age. He was orc raised, and had little idea how they would expect him to behave himself, let alone interact with them, so Nobu'tan felt that it would be best to rely on his unassuming statue and training to remain unnoticed by them until it was time for them to leave.

Sadly, that seemed less than possible, as many had seen him waiting for them with the Professor separately, and crowded around him almost immediately, asking about what the Sorting entailed, who he was, and why he wasn't on the train. Nobu'tan was almost forced to actually respond, when several people at the back screamed. Most of the group turned, and Nobu'tan breathed a sigh of relief as the ghosts of Hogwarts streamed straight through the walls, discussing one of their number until they realized that they had just glided into a room filled with children.

"New Students!" said the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar, smiling around at them all. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few nodded, still afraid of the pearly white shape of the ghosts. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," the Friar said cheerfully as the group continued through the next wall, "my old house you know."

"Move along now," said the voice of Professor McGonagall, as she returned, "the Ceremony of about to start. Form a line please, and follow me."

The children obeyed, Nobu'tan taking up a position toward the rear of the line, breathing deeply to himself. Despite knowing that these humans were only children, and of no threat to him, it had still been rather nerve wracking for them to charge up to him all at once and demand answers to questions he did not want to answer, and he needed a moment to collect himself.

Remembering the Archmage Dumbledore was only one room over, waiting for him to appear greatly helped to focus Nobu'tan's resolve. He refused to show weakness in front of the old man, and as simple as something like this was, it was a matter of his own pride that he forced himself to at least act calm.

Nobu'tan had been in the Great Hall only one time before, but now with the decorations and hundreds of people filling the seats he could see why it was a magnificent room. The levels of magic from so many wizards and mages were remarkable, and Nobu'tan could feel far below that the Ley Lines were singing at the thought of so many magic users drawing power from it. but that thought confused him, as these mages did not use the power of the Ley Lines for their casting, merely specific rune based magic.

As they approached the stool with the enchanted hat upon it however, Nobu'tan decided that the Ley Line mystery would have to wait for another day. As they stood waiting, the animation charms on the hat activated, opening a rip near the brim and began to, of all the stupid things, sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus had always extremely enjoyed the Welcoming Feast of another year at Hogwarts; it symbolized new beginnings, a fresh start, and good feelings. This year was no exception, but there was an added level of excitement throughout the Hall as the First years piled inside and listened to the Sorting Hat's song.

Old as he may be, Albus was not deaf yet, and the whispered conversations rippling among the students about young Harry and his presence were not to be ignored. Not that he planned to oust the boy before the entire Hall, but inevitably he would be called up and sorted, which would quell the inherent disquiet among the students as their beloved hero, and in many cases idol, finally took his place in one of the four houses.

One by one the eleven year olds started to approach as Minerva called their names from the scroll Albus had created off the list of names for that year, corresponded with those that has responded in the affirmative, plus Harry. All in all, only four families had refused the position at the school for their child, and each had very good reasons to, predominant being that they no longer lived in Britain, in the aftermath of the first war with Voldemort, and had thusly made other arrangements.

As Minerva worked her way down the list of names, Albus noticed that even members of the Staff started to grow somewhat in anticipation, leaning forward as the 'P' names approached. Albus knew that Professor Flitwick in particular had great interest in Harry's placement, having grown quite close to the boy during their time together the previous month. The Dueling Champion and Charm's Master loved to teach, and Harry had been like a dry sponge, soaking up every tidbit of information that the part-human had been willing to dispense, which greatly pleased both Filius and Albus.

At last, the moment came, and as Minerva called, "Potter, Harry," the entire Hall seemed to hold their collective breath. The boy stepped forward, looking mightily uncomfortable at the attention, and frowning only once at the stool and hat, sat without a word and allowed Minerva to place the hat upon his head, the brim sinking low over his eyes.

And then, they waited. Albus wasn't sure how the tedium of waiting seemed to drag time out, and momentarily allowed his thoughts to wander as to whether the Department of Mysteries had studied something about that, when the Hat opened its brim wide to call out the name of Harry's House.

"RAVENCLAW!" it bellowed, much to the delight of Filius and the table of blue and bronze.

As the hat was lifted off Harry's head, the Eagle's symbol appeared on the brest of his robes, along with the blue trim marking him a member of the house of the wise and learned. Minerva, to her credit, only looked mildly disappointed, along with the rest of Gryffindor, who had expected that the lad would join their ranks like his parents before him. Albus personally was pleased that he had correctly guessed where Harry was likely to go, and relieved that it was not into the house of serpents.

An entire level of planning now was not needed, and he could proceed with his original plans to hone the boy in preparation for when Voldemort would strike again from the shadows of the world. But there was still a long way to go, and even as he smiled over the head table as Ravenclaws of all ages congratulated Harry, he knew that there was no small amount of pain and discomfort that awaited this boy who had so much unknowingly placed upon his shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was more than aware of all the eyes on him, and the reaction that was likely to occur regardless of whatever house he entered. The hat seemed determined that he go into Slytherin, for all the ambition that had been taught him by his master, Gul'dan, but that was not an acceptable option.

Slytherin was overwhelmingly hated by all houses, and favored by only a single professor, one Severus Snape, who seemed to dislike Nobu'tan passionately for reasons he kept to himself. Therefore, Nobu'tan took it into his own hands to select the house he desired to enter, Ravenclaw, and would not back down his desires for the Eagle's house to be his own.

The hat, it seemed, was not designed to contradict the wishes of a student once they had their own choice made, merely recommending that Slytherin would still be the best fit for him, before giving in and declaring to the entire Hall, "RAVENCLAW!"

The applause was thunderous from the blue and bronze table, who clearly had not expected him to go to their house. In fact, the only table that looked disappointed, aside from all who were surprised, was the house of red and gold; Gryffindor. Nobu'tan knew that his family traditionally went to that House, but he was his own person, not a copy of any other, and he knew that entering that house would drive him crazy with annoyance from the downright lack of forethought that people who entered it seemed to express in their mannerisms.

No, he would fit well in the house of the intelligent, as to the leanings of magic, and perhaps there he would find allies that would not criticize him for what he was or desired to pursue in his learning. Taking his seat, and nodding at all those who approached to welcome him, Nobu'tan waited patiently for the final few children to be sorted, and the food at last to appear.

Once it did, the talking began, and Nobu'tan once more blessed the charms that allowed him to understand the speech of these children, or else he would have been totally lost. Even still, much of the things they spoke of were foreign to him, such as their blood lineage, whether this or that parent were magical or not, and the most baffling thing of all that consumed the minds of these children and adolescents, Quidditch.

Nobu'tan felt he would never understand why so many were downright obsessed with a game played up in the air, where nothing was accomplished except some spherical objects being throw around or captured. Regardless of the absurdity of it, flying sounded delightful, like most of the magical things here, but Nobu'tan refused to allow himself to be distracted from the main goal he had laid for himself.

He needed to escape his prison here. He clearly did not belong much here, even as he pretended to listen and understand what the children discussed, as he slowly ate food that he had never before tasted, and felt the eyes of much of the Hall on him. He wanted, more than anything, to return to Gul'dan's side, and forward their mission of dominating Azeroth.

That's when the little, burningly brilliant idea came to him. Why seek to return to Gul'dan, when he could create means to bring Gul'dan and the Horde to him? Nobu'tan understood little about the great swirling vortex that was the Dark Portal, having had the honor of seeing it only once from a great distance when he was very little, but the concept seemed something that he could easily learn about, study here and through the arts he secretly possessed, and if he couldn't discover the means here, there were other sources of knowledge he could ask assistance from, such as the Legion. Offering another world for them to consume in exchange would be a transaction he could see the demon-lords accepting.

A small smile worked its way onto his face at the thought, and he squirreled it away deep in his heart, a dream to feed while he was prisoner here, of freedom and blood and fire as he at last was freed of these people who thought they could control him.

Soon enough, the food was depleted, and Archmage Dumbledore rose from his seat. Clearing his throat to get the assembled children's attention, he began, "Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you all. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

The Archmage sent a pointed glance toward the red and gold clad table before continuing, amid chuckles from the older students, going over perfectly mundane things, for a magical school. As he was speaking Nobu'tan couldn't help but make comparisons to how different, and inferior, the system here was to Dalaran and their tutelage. Archmage Kel'Thuzad had been one of the few people that Nobu'tan had actually interacted with in the Violet Citadel, aside from the occasional other apprentice while looking through the massive library or walking the streets of the mage's city, but he had few that he had to answer to in his studies except his master, who directed everything and taught Nobu'tan what the Archmage felt he needed to learn.

Here however, it seemed that a general level of studies were assigned to every student, and they were expected to at least be competent enough to pass along with the rest of their peers, instead of each being taught to grown to their own standards and reach to their personal strengths, becoming strong as a group for their diversity rather than a mindless blob of meaningless similitude.

"And finally," Dumbledore said, and Nobu'tan returned his attention to the old man, "I must tell you all that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Some children laughed nervously, but very few did. Nobu'tan frowned, as it seemed rather foolish to announce something like that in such a manner to a room full of children. Would it not be better to simply block off the area and utterly prevent access? Soon enough they were dismissed, and Nobu'tan slowly followed the group of Ravenclaw first years up to their tower common room, following the Prefects, Penelope Clearwater and Robert Hilliard, up the many flights of stairs in what Nobu'tan felt was a roundabout and very convoluted way, with how many secret passages he could easily sense with his magic.

Ironically though, either the Prefects did not want the First Years to think about how much more complicated that could be, or did not know they were there themselves, they took the mainstream path, ending at the top of a spiral staircase at the west side of the fifth floor with a door that lacked any sort of knob or keyhole. All that was present was a knocker in the shape of an eagle, the symbol of their house.

As the person in the lead, Prefect Hilliard, approached, a clear voice spoke, "What loses its head in the morning and gets it back at night?"

Turning to the group, the Prefect smiled, "Anyone have an answer? You'll all need to become proficient with riddles if you wish to enter the common room on your own, so best to start now."

For a few moments, no one spoke, and then one of the girls in the back called out, "A pillow."

"Well said," the door announced, and swung aside, permitting them all entry. The Prefects ushered them all inside, and idly Nobu'tan glanced around his temporary new home, the wide circular room was quite open and airy, with a midnight blue carpet making the stone floor beneath them quite comfortable. Arched windows all around gave a stunning view of the castle's many roofs and the grounds beyond them in all directions, while various bookshelves, tables, and chairs were all present for students wishing to study among their own Housemates instead of in the library with the rest of the school.

There were two more staircases here, one on each side of a tall statue of white marble, depicting an austere yet surprisingly intimidating woman, presumable Rowena Ravenclaw herself, the Founder of their House. Little time was taken by the Prefects, who quickly described the facilities up each flight, and when for the first years to report for breakfast in the morning, before sending them off to prepare for bed.

Nobu'tan was the first to travel up the stairs, noting the each room as they ascended had a plaque on the door indicating what year of students lived within. The first years were all the way at the top of the tower, giving them the best view, albeit the most time to travel up and down the tower. Inside the boy's dormitory all Nobu'tan's possessions waited by one of the four beds. The other three boys, Terence Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Michael Corner, were so tired that they did little else than change into their night clothes and flop unceremoniously onto their beds.

Nobu'tan hadn't had as filling as day as any of them, having not needed to travel from the train station back in London, so he was not nearly as exhausted. Taking his time, he relished once again, as he had for the past month, in the concept of indoor plumbing and cleanliness, a marvel that would be completely ignored throughout the Horde, Gul'dan included.

Afterward he went back downstairs, ignoring the many glances and stares of the older housemates, who probably wondered why he wasn't dead on his feet like the rest of the first years, and proceeded to select a few of the books from the various shelves that looked particularly interesting. There was a tome on the study of ancient runes, as well as a pair of companion books about offensive and defensive combat magic, which he piled together and took back to the dormitory without a word of explanation to the rest of the room, not that it was needed. Clearly it was standard policy in Ravenclaw that if someone wanted to read, you let them.

Granted these books, while interesting, were merely a front for what he truly wanted to read, the books he had taken out of the Diagon bookstore's rear section, the ones brimming with nether energy. Crawling into the large four poster bed and pulling the curtains shut around him, Nobu'tan lifted the book and eagerly opened the cover, smiling in delight as the English words changed in his mind to the common script he was used to reading by now. He had to remember to save his knowledge of the orcish language for times he wanted absolute privacy, as there currently was no way for anyone, even Archmage Dumbledore, to read or understand that.

This book he now held however was quite interesting, detailing the mad schemes of some ancient wizard, in his own ramblings, as he took the tentative steps toward the same powers that Nobu'tan now wielded. Merwyn, who was obsessed with being remembered as 'the Malicious,' seemed to have at least a spark of creativity in him, as he had quite easily listed off the first handful of abilities that Nobu'tan had been taught by Gul'dan and Cho'gall back in Azeroth: conjuring bolts of shadow magic, afflicting enemies with a corroding curse of darkness, calling form imps from the Twisted Nether to the location of the caster, and this all within the first dozen or so pages of the man's dabbling in the arts of the void.

There was also much more than merely warlock based magic here, but for now they were the only parts that held Nobu'tan's interest, and he skimmed through as he drew inspiration at another touched by the power of the Burning Legion. It seemed, in time when Merwyn had grown in power, that he made the attempt to contact the Legion directly, hoping for more tutelage in exchange for his loyalty. The ritual was botched however, and little came of it but signaling to his enemies where he was and what he was up to.

In the end the book trailed off after the warlock said that he had to go into hiding, and was secreting this tome for future generations, in hopes that someone worthy would continue in his footsteps, and Nobu'tan smiling widely at that. After a manner of speaking, the thousand year old book had indeed fallen into the hands of another warlock, and there would be much that Nobu'tan could learn here. Carefully slipping the book back to the bottom of his trunk, Nobu'tan finally allowed the need for sleep to overtake him.

The next few days were probably going to be extremely taxing, and his rest would be more than needed to deal with whatever the day brought with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione Granger wasn't much for gossip, but she couldn't help but overhear what was said the first day of classes, as the Gryffindor first years shuffled down to breakfast. The one name that seemed to be on everyone's lips was Harry Potter.

Many students huddled with various Ravenclaw, mainly those of the upper years, and discussed things that had witnessed about the boy behind his back, while whispered conversations darted up and down each of the House tables. Ironically, as Hermione snuck a glance at the subject of all the rumors and speculations, she raised an eyebrow to find that he was contentedly eating his food, not caring in the slightest at all the attention he was getting, just acting like a normal boy with his dorm mates, occasionally speaking while the other three Ravenclaw boys talked around him.

Sure, he was a celebrity, sure he was probably this or that, but from what Hermione saw, he was just an ordinary boy, who came to school to learn like the rest of them, and people were being awfully strange about him, which was probably rather off putting, even if he didn't show it.

Glancing down at her schedule when Professor McGonagall came around with them, Hermione smiled. There were at least two classes that week that Ravenclaw shared with Gryffindor, History of Magic, and Charms. That was two chances to actually get to know the boy Harry Potter, and she felt that the entire school needed to see an example of how you truly go about getting to know someone.

Unfortunately, History of Magic turned out to be so dull and lifeless that it was nearly impossible for her to do anything but struggle to keep up on her notes as the ghost who taught the subject, Professor Binns, lectured throughout the entire class period. Harry and most of the Ravenclaws managed to stay awake, but she wondered how many of them actually took notes and how many were working on other class work during the lecture.

Charms class was the first lesson on Wednesday, and Hermione hoped that she might have the opportunity to at least introduce herself properly to Harry as they took their seats. To this end she arrived extraordinarily early, rushing in as soon as Professor Flitwick opened the door. She paused when she noticed that Harry was already present.

It was rather off putting, having her plan altered in such a fashion, but she tried to control her sudden nervousness. She had envisioned a few moments at least to compose herself and actual approach the boy, but as she set down her bag, placing parchment, a quill and her wand on the desk, she knew there was nothing for it. Facing the boy, she strode over to him.

He was reading, as most Ravenclaws were wont to do at all hours, but Hermione didn't let that stop her. "Hello," she managed, which paused the boy mid sentence, and he looked up with an odd expression, not confused or angry, but curious.

"Hello…" he replied, somewhat haltingly, as though he wasn't used to speaking English very well, although the pronunciation was quite clear. Trying madly to control herself and keep from flustering, Hermione looked down at the book again, "I was just wondering what you're reading."

The boy smiled slightly as he returned his attention to the book, sliding a placeholder into the pages and closing it, he presented the spine to her, which declared it a rudimentary guide for the study of ancient runes. Hermione had already noted the mention of a class for that from some of the third and upper years, and figured that it was something that was offered later after students had managed the basics. "Oh, I've heard of that class, it sounds rather interesting." She mused aloud, "Is the book any good?" she asked earnestly, sliding into the seat next to the Ravenclaw.

"I think it is," Harry said slowly, as though taking his time to make sure the words came out correctly. "It gives a very comprehensive outline of what runes can be used for, and several powerful examples of each, as well as a few basic carvings and how one could practice them."

Hermione noticed Professor Flitwick smiling over at them, and the Charms Master casually flicked his wand, causing Hermione's things to travel across the room and settle where she was sitting, "Class will start in a few more minutes Mr. Potter," the man said gently as he returned to his marking.

Harry nodded at the Professor, and paused to pull out his wand, muttering a spell softly and pointing it at himself. Hermione was confused at what the boy had done, but felt it might be viewed as extremely rude to push a personal topic like that so bluntly, so she continued the original topic as though nothing had happened. "So, what are a few things that runes are good for? I mean I know there must be all sorts of ingenious magic that they're part of, but you clearly have some extraordinary idea if you're interested in the topic already."

Harry grinned slightly, more to himself than Hermione, and surprised her when he spoke by how much more confident he sounded, "Well, I have a few ideas that I'm trying to figure out how possible they are. You know how wizards teleport, using Apparition, what if we could make and maintain large runic arrays that would power permanent portals, allowing mass numbers of people to travel long distances instantly."

Harry's eyes shown with excitement and desire at the idea, and Hermione wondered if every Ravenclaw was so intense with their projects. It was actually rather inspiring, for a boy so young to have such a passion. "Don't they already have Portkeys and the Floo network for that?" she asked, having seen and experienced those two forms of wizarding transportation when Professor McGonagall had come to take her and her parents to Diagon for the first time.

"Yes, but this would be like combining all three forms into one," Harry pressed, turning in his seat to face her and explain, "You see, the Floo network are sort of like what I'm think of, except they aren't open at all times, and have a limited distance you can travel before you have to connect to another fireplace, hence why it gets so disorienting and sometimes quite unpleasant. On the other hand, Portkeys can travel a long distance, but they are usually bound by objects, which every member who wished to travel much be touching, and that adds limits of how many and at what times they can travel. What I want to create would be like a massive Floo fireplace, but constantly open to a very far destination, like Hogsmeade to Diagon Alley, which would allow traffic to flow between the two in either direction freely."

It was quite the idea, and Hermione knew that she didn't have the tools to even consider the concept, having not studied nearly enough about magic to even realize that wizards had such limits on their traveling forms. But students were just starting to trickle in, and the first three boys were all in Harry's house, calling to him and joking as they sat around Hermione and Harry.

None really seemed to mind her sitting with them, even if it was odd that she was on the Ravenclaw side of the room instead of with her fellow Gryffindors, but from the look on Professor Flitwick's face, he wasn't going to say a single word about it.

As the lesson started, and the smaller Professor started to discuss the different charms and spells they would practice throughout the year, Hermione couldn't help but notice the subtle interaction, or rather the lack thereof, between Harry and his three year mates. While he wasn't exactly cold or distant from them, there seemed to be almost a slight disconnect between them and him. One of the boys would make a joke, causing the other two to cover their faces to prevent themselves from snorting, but Harry would only grin, and he didn't seem to speak as casually as they did when the class was set to work practicing wand movements from out of their textbook.

Was it that Harry was simply different enough to stand out with how close Hermione was, or was it something else? Hermione wasn't even sure if what she thought she noticed was real or not, but it was definitely something strange. Regardless, she had done what none of the rest of the school had seemed willing to consider, and at least was on friendly terms with the celebrity, and surprisingly, Hermione felt that Harry could become a good friend. He certainly seemed like the pleasant sort, if not slightly on the bookish side, which suited Hermione just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus paused as he reached the name he had loathed to see on his list of students. "Ah, yes," he said softly for the class, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity…"

It was still rather odd to see the boy prancing about in the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw instead of the dreadful red and gold of Gryffindor, and much less satisfying to have him in a class with Hufflepuffs instead of his Slytherins, but there was little to be helped with that. Severus continued with the roll, completely ignoring Potter and his brief look of confusion at the small statement.

Beginning his same first year lecture about the demanding and quite specific arts of potion-making, Severus resisted rolling his eyes as all the Ravenclaws, including Potter, started copying his words down, like generations before them. While he didn't discourage it, there really was little of importance that he said, just a heavy insinuation of how great care must be taken in his subject, or else.

"Potter!" Severus called suddenly, startling the Ravenclaws out of their note taking. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

It was a fair question, Severus thought, especially for a Ravenclaw who ought to have at least opened their book, and spotted the small note in one of the opening chapters. Granted it was not part of the main text and irrelevant flavor, but Severus expected much from his students, and Potter was to be given no special treatment.

The boy closed his eyes for a moment, and Severus could almost see the eyes darting back and forth under their lids, as if rereading the very book. "The Draught of Living Death, sir." Potter said.

"Correct…" Severus said softly, interested. There may be potential in the boy after all, "and where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Something from a bit later on in the book, when poisons were first mentioned, still perfectly fair.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," Potter replied again, correctly.

Severus nodded, before deciding to push the envelope just slightly. "And what is the difference, Mr. Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Severus admitted to himself that the final question might be slightly unfair, as the text clearly defined the herb as monkshood only; the name of wolfsbane having come about several decades after the author had passed away. Still, he truly wanted to know how intelligent the boy was, in the month he had had to actually study for Hogwarts.

"I'm not sure, sir, but aren't they the same plant?" Potter said, only slightly hesitantly, second guessing himself.

"They are, Mr. Potter. I congratulate you on your clear understanding of the text and willingness to commit much of it to memory. I will give Ravenclaw House three points for those answers." Severus said, not terribly grudgingly, he did give points to other houses than Slytherin, just when they were truly earned. Gryffindor may complain all they want that they didn't, but as a house they simply failed to impress Severus.

"Let us hope that all that knowledge translates itself to practical application as we start off with a relatively simply boil curing potion," Severus added, launching into the actual lesson. Flicking his wand at the blackboard, the directions that were taken straight from their book appeared there, with a few minor tweaks that Severus wondered if anyone would notice.

"Instructions are on the board and in your book; several of the ingredients are in the student cupboards at the rear of the classroom. Pay careful attention to the heat of your cauldrons, and be sure to remove it from the fire before adding porcupine quills. The effects if failing to do so are not pleasant to say the least."

Severus knew that the Ravenclaws would have no trouble following his directions, but the verbal warnings were there for those who would, hopefully, listen and avoid the disaster that awaited anyone who failed to heed them. Severus still remembered the horrific ordeal that was the Gryffindor Slytherin block before lunch, when Neville Longbottom, obviously not listening or forgetful, had done just that.

Walking around the room and observing the students as they worked, Severus noted some that may want to take remedial lessons to improve their ingredient preparation, and made mental notes to contact them subtly, something that he did not bother with the Gryffindors as they would never take up the offer if he extended it. His Slytherins had no choice in the matter, as Severus would not tolerate ineptitude from his House.

"Sir?" Potter asked as he passed by, only glancing once at the slightly above average prep work. Severus turned, pausing respectfully. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Nodded at the board up front, the boy continued, "I've noticed that your instructions differ from those in the book, and I wanted to ask why you made those changes? Do they have a different effect on the potion if I was to add two and an eighth quill instead of the full three."

Severus couldn't help himself but smile. It seemed that the boy had indeed inherited his mother's love for learning. This one would be a privilege to teach, coated in Dark Magic residue or not. "Try it and see." He said cryptically, keeping his voice low so that others didn't hear, "and take note how yours turns out in comparison to those who follow the book's directions.

The boy nodded, silently, before returning to his potion. Severus walked away, continuing to observe all the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, but his mind was already whirling about Potter. If he was clearly more like his mother, than would change a few things, and remembering the state the boy was in when they first met somewhat softened the hard lump in Severus' chest at the thought of the child. At the same time, questions started to arise. Where had the boy truly gone then, and what had he been up to for over ten years while the Wizarding World missed him.


	9. C8: Neutrality

**Nothing much to say today, life is life, and being tired sucks... enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Eight**

 **Neutrality**

Draco Malfoy had had many expectations when coming to Hogwarts. His father, as one of the school's governors, had taken great care to explain the complexities of the various Professors and school positions, like Prefect, and who could or could not be trusted. But the one thing that that had both failed to take into account, was Harry Potter.

Sure, Lucius had known that the boy was likely to be joining Draco this year, and together they had planned accordingly for the Gryffindor Golden Boy to manifest himself, but once Potter was sorted into Ravenclaw all those preconceptions went flying right off the Astronomy Tower and into the Black Lake.

Now Draco had little idea what to expect the other boy to do, and if he was going to be honest with himself he found the situation rather curious. It was a strange position that he actually might be able to approach the boy again and speak in a civil manner to him, which was not something he had expected to do again after meeting Potter in Madam Malkin's before school started.

Slytherin shared Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Astronomy with Ravenclaw, so there was more than enough opportunity for Draco to watch the way Potter interacted with others, but that merely led to more questions and little answers. Either the boy was extremely shy, or just didn't like to talk, as he only truly spoke when directly addressed, even by a Professor, and when they were finished working he would pull out some off-topic book like the rest of his house to read. The only difference was that the books he chose were drastically more specific than the ones the rest of his year mates were reading.

While the other Ravenclaw boys were perusing books about general studies in their various classes, Potter would be intensely reading a journal about the study of runes, or magical transportation, and even one time Draco caught him reading a book on mind magic. It was odd that a boy so young would be so wrapped up in such things, but Draco wasn't a Ravenclaw, so perhaps he didn't completely understand, but then again perhaps not.

The other frustrating thing was that the boy was ridiculously hard to approach. How the Mudblood Granger had managed it so quickly was absurd, and she occasionally was seen with Potter between classes, idly chatting with him about this or that, not that Draco cared or listened to what the filthy girl said, but the opportunity to properly introduce himself hadn't come up as of yet.

Until one late September morning, while they were all waiting outside Professor Quirrell's room while the teacher did who knew what, and Potter arrived alone, ahead of all the other Ravenclaws while the Slytherins were all gathered. There was only a slight amount of muttering when the boy briefly smiled at them, before shoving his nose into one of his trademark advanced books, but Draco wasn't about to allow such an opportunity to slip by.

Squaring his shoulders, the Malfoy heir stepped forward, while his constant companions, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle lurched into position at his side. "So then," Draco started, catching Potter's attention as he turned a page in his book, and causing the boy to pause and look at him, "quite the stir you've caused in the school by being sorted into Ravenclaw, Potter."

The boy looked at Draco for a long moment, seeming to chew the words over in his head before responding slowly, "I suppose so, not that it really mattered to me where I was placed…"

That caused Draco to raise an eyebrow. It wasn't exactly a Ravenclaw thing to say, but it was in the same form of thought from the house of intelligence to try and over analyze something, "but of course House matters," he protested gently, taking it more as a good natured debate rather than offensively. Ravenclaws liked debate, right? "It's important to belong to something greater than yourself, so that you are able to have people around you to support you in your endeavors."

Potter paused again, seeming to strain to understand his words, before merely shaking his head. Drawing his wand, Potter pointed it at himself and said softly, " _Sermoligula_." Draco was unfamiliar with that spell or what it did, but filed away the information to research it later. When Potter spoke again, it was far faster and more comprehensive, "Perhaps that is the way that Slytherin House looks at the sorting dynamics, but Ravenclaw, and I'd further guess the other two houses by extension, have their own viewpoints. Take my house for example; while yes there are those ready and eager to help out if one is stuck on something, we are more than encouraged to figure things out alone, independent of all others. Something a bit prideful that some take to the extreme if you ask me, but regardless…"

Just then the door opened, and the other Ravenclaws appeared from around the corner of the corridor, right on time as usual, and Draco nodded to Potter before ducking inside the classroom with the rest of his house. Personally he had hoped that their conversation wasn't so quickly stopped, as he actually understood some of Potter's viewpoints, but there was time enough to pick it up again where they left off at a later date.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather a joke of a class, and Draco had little problems finished the ridiculously simply notes and assignment that Quirrell assigned, spending most of his time glancing across the room at Potter and the other Ravenclaw boys. While the three seemed to be thick as thieves, joking and laughing to themselves as they worked, Potter seemed to stand out. Not as an outcast per say, as the other boys would drag him into their talks from time to time, but he would disengage time and again when he was left alone, and inevitably return to his book.

Even for a Ravenclaw the boy was studious, and that caused Draco to wonder if the material he was reading, while incredibly advanced, was truly for pure academic reasons. Call it Slytherin intuition, or ambitious paranoia, but something felt off about the picture he was presented, and Draco decided that he would do two very important things. First, contact his father for more information and possibly a speculation of the scenario, and secondly, he would continue to pursue this acquaintanceship with Potter directly, and see where that led.

At worst, he may figure out the reasons from merely being around the boy, or get Potter to spill his plan prematurely. Ravenclaws liked to discuss their pet projects he had heard, not only from his father but from upper year Slytherins as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was surprisingly enjoying his time in the magical school, between the various new magic that he was learning, even if he did have more than a few powerful mages looking over his shoulder most of the time. Even something as basic as flying on an enchanted broom was astoundingly delightful, not that it hurt that Nobu'tan was apparently a natural at it.

At the same time, during what few hours alone he could scrap together in a given week, he was able to dabble with arcane magic, and was not able to gather the energy together into an explosion of pure magical power. Sadly his time for delving into the power of the Legion were stunted because of all the other activities and people sapping his time.

He was sure that he could handle summon a new kind of demon, the tempting Succubus, but finding somewhere secret to do so without drawing the attention, and wrath, of Archmage Dumbledore down upon him would be difficult. There was the forest, to be sure, but that was an open space with little to protect him while he built and harnessed the summoning circle and bound the demon to himself.

To that end, he scoured the castle a second time, searching for any nook or cranny that might be overlooked, but it was hopeless. On the seventh floor, Nobu'tan slumped against a wall under a hideous tapestry, straining his mind to find a way around this problem, cursing Gul'dan and Kel'Thuzad for allowing this to happen.

Arcane magic danced across the underside of his skin, eager to be unleashed in a violent storm, but Nobu'tan didn't dare draw any attention to himself inside the castle, not with all the ghosts, children and portraits that could easily get word back to Dumbledore. 'If only there was somewhere I can use magic completely undetected by the castle,' he thought bitterly, and almost fell backward as the wall shifted right in front of him.

A door formed in the wall across from the tapestry, innocent looking yet strangely inviting. Cautiously and fully expecting a trap of some sort, Nobu'tan slowly stood and edged over to the newly appeared door. One had to be cautious in this castle, as there were many doors and staircases that were so infused with magic that they developed their own personalities, and usually mischievous ones at that.

However, the door latch clicked easily, and creaked open to reveal a large room, completely empty aside from some empty bookshelves and tables. The moment Nobu'tan entered, the door swung shut behind him and he felt magic pulsate into place over the door, like a shimmering field. Panicking at the possible trap, Nobu'tan lunged for the door, only to find that his hand easily pierced the field, and the door remained unlocked to him.

Growing puzzled, he allowed it to close again, and studied the field that sprung up. His magical probes couldn't sense anything beyond the field whatsoever. Nobu'tan's eyebrows lifted, and a small smile began across his face. The castle had answered his wish, granting him a space to practice his dark magic without fear of discovery. Leaving the room, he watched the door vanish away, and quickly he sped across to Ravenclaw tower and up to his dormitory.

It was a weekend, and the majority of the Ravenclaws were in the library or doing their extracurricular activities, so the tower was mostly empty, so there was no one to question why he took several things from his room and carried it out of the tower. Quickly retracing his steps, Nobu'tan waited for the door to reappear, and grew desperate when it did not.

"Wait," he told himself, forcing his body to be calm. Recalling the circumstances that produced the door the first time, Nobu'tan focused on the exact spot where it was supposed to appear and let the desire for the door bubble within him again. Nobu'tan almost jumped for joy as the door obediently returned, and eagerly went inside, shutting the door and getting started.

Opening Merwyn's journal, Nobu'tan found where the madman described the ritual circle for summoning demons, and quickly set to work tracing it across the ground in chalk, adding a few flourishes that Gul'dan had shown him when binding a Voidwalker to himself. Finally, there were a few items that he required to tempt the temptress to himself, but Nobu'tan had never required items to bring the other demons to himself, and he recalled something about the lesser types hearkening to power sources of fel magic like his own, so he hoped that this would be no different.

Quickly calling Xorton to himself, Nobu'tan set the blue creature of the void to patrolling the outside of the circle, prepared to jump in when another demon appeared. With all set and ready, Nobu'tan focused on the circle itself. Gathering his magic together in a giant tether, he pushed through the circle and out into the Twisted Nether, seeking the demon that would come to him like a fish to a hook. For several long minutes he stood motionless, chanting the orcish words of domination and of lust for power, hoping that the creature he sought would come. There had been rumors of warlocks getting more than they bargained for during a summoning, so Nobu'tan was very careful to put just enough power to frighten away Voidwalkers, but hopefully not draw anything too powerful to him.

A sharp tug on his magic acted like a bite, and Nobu'tan fed the demon magic to draw it back to this world, opening the way for it to come through. The creature stepped through, humanlike torso swaying seductively on its furred and hoofed legs. Scantily clad, the Succubus looked upon Nobu'tan and even through the piercing blue glow of her eyes, the orc raised human could see the lust for destruction.

Flapping her leathery wings once, the demon stepped forward, "Couldn't resist, could you, little warlock…"

Nobu'tan was wise of her attempts, and Xorton interposed himself instantly between his master and the Succubus, even as the whip that the demon had hidden snapped out, missing Nobu'tan by inches.

"Let's get this party started!" the succubus said, lashing the whip again at the blue demon, while Nobu'tan unleashed his demonic magic upon her, flames and shadow pelting her magically resistant hide. Every time she was struck, the succubus let out a girlish squeal that Nobu'tan was sure would drive older men crazy, but he simply pressed the attack, finally knocking the demon aside with a powerful blast of pure chaos.

"Enough!" the demon cried, staggering to her knees. "I yield, you are clearly powerful."

"Good," Nobu'tan said, not stepping forward just in case it was a ploy of the lust demon. "You're name, so I may call upon you, my newest servant."

The demon seemed to deflate at the order, but obeyed. "Sarti… master. Now what would you ask of me?"

"Nothing presently, return to the Void and heal yourself, I'll call to you if I need anything." Nobu'tan said with a grin. The Succubus smiled toothily at him, "Try not to miss me too much…" she said even as she faded back into the Nether.

Xorton was dismissed soon after, and Nobu'tan sat on the stone floor, breathing hard. It had been too long since he had expended that much magic through his body, and he had grown somewhat soft. It irritated him, but at least he had a place to go now to retune himself to the energy of the Nether. Subtly he started to feed off his tentative connection to the ley lines under the castle, and the old magic flooded into him, replenishing his muscles and rejuvenating his mind. For a moment he could sense through the castle, knowing where a great many of the students and teachers were, and something else.

Partway down the castle was something that didn't belong, something with powerful magical properties that was purposefully left out for anyone to sense if they were looking hard enough. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was whatever was hidden on the third floor, but before Nobu'tan could investigate further, the connection to the castle closed, and he was rejuvenated, albeit festering with more questions.

Nobu'tan wasn't foolish enough to go running after whatever it was just yet, however, as there had to be some sort of security measures blocking the way, and knowing the power of a Archmage like Dumbledore, it would be formidable. For now he would bide his time, see what happened and how much of a danger it was before tempting fate to have a look see.

Focusing on his more arcane elements, Nobu'tan distracted himself from the secret floor by conjuring his water elemental, and running through a drill of ice and fire-based magic, watching with amusement as the flames he created were altered by his knowledge of demonic lore and the darker fires that they created, and the shadows that filled his bolts of frost.

Even the water elemental itself was more ferocious and dangerous that its counterparts back in Dalaran, partially resembling Xorton in the dark shadows that flowed through the water of its form. Granted, the elemental was a conjuration only, and therefore a representation of Nobu'tan more than its own living entity, so it made sense.

Soon enough it was after dark, and Nobu'tan knew that he would be missed if he wasn't present at dinner and to retire, so he discontinued his training, leeching more magic from the ley lines of the school to replenish himself once again. Walking through the castle with a slightly springier step than usual, Nobu'tan paused outside the Great Hall. There were still a fair few that were entering, so he wasn't terribly late, but he steeled himself regardless for the scrutiny he was about to receive from the Archmagi at the Head table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus spotted Harry the moment he entered the Great Hall for dinner, looking much happier than usual and meandering toward the Ravenclaw table. The great wizard had to admit that the boy was far less of a burden than he had feared, with all the Dark Magic that had been around him. He was a quiet and studious child, eager to absorb every scrap of knowledge that was offered, especially those that would make his transition to Hogwarts easier.

Aside from the effective prisoner status that he was in, and Albus admitted that it was somewhat unfair to the boy to be thrown into the castle with no freedom to leave, Harry was handling it well. Perhaps the next weekend Albus would take Harry out to Hogsmeade or Diagon again to give him another chance at some shopping, not that he knew what he might want to purchase.

From his many eyes throughout the school, he had learned somewhat of the boy's great dream for renovating the world of magical transportation, with great standing portals to ferry people from place to place, and Albus was glad that the boy had such keen interests. Arithmancy and runes seemed to be the boy's favorite subjects, even if he wasn't yet allowed to officially take the courses.

Pausing while he ate, Albus considered that October was just around the corner and with it the anniversary of Voldemort defeat and Harry's parent's death. Perhaps it would be appropriate to take Harry to Godric's Hollow and visit their graves? It would be an opportune moment to teach Harry about the importance that he represented to their world, and the price defeating darkness cost.

'Yes,' Albus thought to himself as he took a large drink from his goblet, 'that would do quite nicely.' A sober visit to Godric's Hollow after an afternoon of shopping in Diagon would do well for the orphan hero, and it would be a reason to depart the school to give Quirrell another chance to examine the defenses of the stone.

Oh, he knew that Voldemort had smuggled his way into Hogwarts, but for the time being there was little Albus could legally do to stop the man. Even if the parasite on him as revealed it would only cause a massive panic, and Albus would prefer to eliminate the shade of Voldemort first before exposing to the world that he had indeed survived.

That was why Harry had to 'accidentally' discover what was hidden on the third floor and go confront the Dark Lord once again. His tentative friendships with Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger would help, but by and large the boy seemed unconcerned about the goings on of his fellow classmates.

There could be all sorts of reasons for that, but Albus chose to be optimistic that that too will change in time. What had the wizard more concerned was how insanely tight lipped the boy was being regarding where he had been for so long, and the identity of the wizard that taught him Dark Magic.

Albus had scoured the world far and wide through his network of allies and informants, but there was no place that matched the location and political climate that Harry let slip. But at the same time it had been such a difficult bit of information to gain that Albus wasn't completely sure that it was simply made up.

Alas, until that little mystery was solved, there was little that Albus could do without that knowledge. The longer this went on, the more Albus was simply tempted to use Legilimency and be done with it, but he still had reservations about how Harry might react to his mind being invaded.

Perhaps an opportunity to do so without provoking the lad might arise soon, but until then Albus had little choice but bide his time and try to endear the boy's favor. For several weeks he waited, simply watching Harry go about the Hogwarts day to day life, until around mid-October, when Albus finally summoned the boy once again to his office early on Saturday.

"Hello, Harry," Albus said congenially as the boy entered his office, "I thought it would be nice to go out to Diagon or Hogsmeade once again, now that you've had time to experience the Wizarding world, there might be more things that you wanted to purchase."

Harry's eyes sparkled for a moment as he thought. "I would be delighted, Archmage Dumbledore."

Albus distinctly caught on the term of Archmage that the boy used, but didn't react. The title of Archmage was archaic, and wasn't used since well before the Middle Ages, but it seemed to be the immediate thought for a strong wizard with the boy.

"Excellent," Albus said, standing. "We may take the Floo from my fireplace." Gesturing to the fireplace, Harry looked somewhat apprehensive, but nodded as Albus took a fine pinch of the powder and tossing it inside the fire.

Leading the boy into the emerald fires, Albus stepped in beside him, "keep your arms tucked in tightly, and don't open your mouth to breath until you stop spinning. Diagon Alley!"

The flames surged, carrying them through the network of fireplaces to the Leaky Cauldron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan wasn't sure whether he approved of the Floo Network, but he needed to understand the concept if he was to build up to recreating the portal concept on this world. That would mean heavy amount of Arithmancy and Runes along with the fel magic of the Twisted Nether to pierce through the great space between this world and Azeroth.

"Now I know you have great interests in the methods of wizarding transportation Harry, so I presume you'd want to go to the bookstore first." Archmage Dumbledore said knowingly. Nobu'tan smiled, nodding vigorously.

Inwardly he laughed. The old fool had little idea what he was assisting into his world. Eagerly walking past the many shops of various goods, Nobu'tan twisted his head every direction, finally able to actually read what the English script was declaring the businesses and products to be. Unfortunately, most of it was rather disappointing, as he had seen far more varied and downright useful items in the markets of Dalaran for his uses, but there may yet be something in the future for him to procure here, so he kept his eyes open as they arrived at Flourish and Blots.

Pursuing the many tomes was pure joy for the young warlock, and quickly he found at least five that matched his needs, outlining the usage of Arithmancy and Rune in the creation of Portkeys and the Floo Network, as well as one on the darker aspect of their uses.

"I don't believe you'll need that one, my boy," Dumbledore said leaning over Nobu'tan's shoulder as he read the titles.

"But sir," Nobu'tan complained, "How would I know if the current creators missed something because it wasn't magic they were comfortable using in creating my project. One must study all aspects of something if they are to understand it fully, not merely the dogmatic, narrow view of the fearful."

Dumbledore seemed to ponder that with a critical eye on Nobu'tan, "I don't think I am inclined to agree, but I will allow you to purchase this volume if you only read it while I am present. Some things are simply too dangerous for young minds to see or read about, let alone anyone for that matter. We wouldn't want your curiosity to lead to a painful and dangerous end now would we?"

Chuckling with the old man, Nobu'tan sensed the irony of the man's words, and the strange twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes told Nobu'tan that the man intended just that, but for some other sort of danger rather than the borderline 'dark' magic that the book spoke of.

Happily paying the store owner for the books, Nobu'tan stepped back out into the street, wondering where they might go to next, and how long Dumbledore would allow them to remain in the shopping district.

Back in Azeroth, he had started to tamper with a few of the great magical professions of the world, namely alchemy, inscription and enchanting, only starting to test the water of the latter two when he was in the Violet Citadel, but here there seemed to be comparable concepts in Potions and Charms, but he wanted to see about finding supplies that he was accustomed to and try his hand once again at those former methods.

Pointing toward a store that sold parchment, ink and feather quills, Nobu'tan looked imploringly at Dumbledore, who smiled and nodded his assent, probably seeing it as an innocent purchase or two.

The store was dusty and well worn by time, filled with jars of multicolored ink in many different jars and vials, along with stacks and stacks of parchment. Some of the quills were very stylish, while a select few were even outlandish, like one that was solid gold. Shaking his head at the madness of these magi, Nobu'tan set about collect a large stack of parchment, before carefully selecting inks that looked somewhat familiar to him from Dalaran.

From what he could tell, there was a single white colored ink in great quantities that somewhat resembled that made from the alabaster pigments that he once worked with on Azeroth, and so he took four vials of it just to get himself started once again. a simple yet well created feathered quill would suffice for these writings, and when he brought the supplies back to the smiling Archmage, Nobu'tan actually grinned at the old man.

These little side projects were something that he had once grown to love, sitting in his Master's tent copying books or practicing the human and orcish written languages as Gul'dan dictated correspondence to the various clans or the surviving members of the Shadow Council. It reminded him of happier times, and he was more than pleased that Dumbledore saw no threat to allowing him this hobby, if the wizard even acknowledged the usefulness of it.

Nobu'tan doubted that he would find herbs in enough quantity that the old man would allow him to acquire for Azerothian Alchemy, nor would enchanted be quite in the realm of feasibility at this time, so the orc raised human was contented to stick with inscription for now and wait for another opportunity to search for the rest of his old life's tools.

The pair once again ate at the ice cream shop, and Nobu'tan set his face as he endured about bout with the sugary substance. It hadn't grown on him in the slightest. Soon enough after that, it was time for them to leave. "I have one other stop that I'd like us to make before we return to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, offering his arm for Nobu'tan.

Knowing what unpleasantness was coming, the warlock took the mage's arm regardless, holding his breath as they were squeezed through the personal teleportation to a small human village. It seemed slightly familiar to Nobu'tan, but as they walked there was nothing that stood out to him in memory. They bypassed a human sight of worship, and for a moment Nobu'tan wondered what these human's regarded as deity, whether they worshipped the Light as the humans of Azeroth did or something else altogether.

Not that he was going to voice such a question to the Archmage that was still trying to pry as much out of Nobu'tan about his life on the other world as possible, so he kept silent. The pair circled the sanctuary to the rear side, where rows of stones were imbedded into the ground, with English words upon them, naming each as a grave marker for specific persons.

It was an interesting human custom, burying their dead in the earth. The orcs of Draenor burned their dead on large pyres, offering their bodies back to the elements from whence they had come, back when Shaman were in power over their clans. When the warlocks rose to control the might of the unified Horde, for the most part their ceremonies remained unchanged, but once they arrived in Azeroth, the dead were simply left behind as they marched onward to press the advantage of their physical might and numbers over the humans of Azeroth.

Archmage Dumbledore seemed to be looking for a marker in specific, and when he found it, he gestured for Nobu'tan to approach and read what was written. "Here we are, Harry."

Obeying, Nobu'tan read the names that were written upon the cold, white rock.

 _James Potter – Born 27 March 1960, Died 31 October 1981_

 _Lily Potter – Born 30 January 1960, Died 31 October 1981_

 _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_

Nobu'tan wasn't sure what he was expected to do, cry over the tomb of his human parents? He had never known them, his family was the Stormreaver Clan, Gul'dan, Cho'gall and the other orcs, trolls and ogres of the Horde that had respected and taken him in as one of their own, regardless of his race.

"What happened to them?" he settled on asking the old man, which seemed to be enough of what the wizard wanted to hear.

"That would be a very long story, Harry, but if you're sure you want to hear it, we will discuss it back at Hogwarts at a later time. For now though, you may either stay here or we may return to the castle for dinner, whenever you feel like it." Dumbledore replied gently.

"No, I'm ready to go," Nobu'tan said slowly, not wanting to reveal how much he didn't want to be here to the old man, who simply nodded solemnly and offered his hand once again. Thinking how much he hated this mode of travel, Harry accepted the instantaneous ride back to the castle. Answers would have to wait until the Headmaster could find a reason to trade them for what he wanted out of Nobu'tan once again, most likely, but the warlock hoped to have a plan to dodge around those unwanted questions yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione had never found a more obnoxious boy than Ronald Weasley. The contemptuous ginger was by far the most insensitive and hotheaded person that she had ever met. Not only would the boy stuff himself silly every meal, causing all manner of disquiet and destroying every peaceful moment that could otherwise be used to study during the mealtime, but his constant sniping of any student that he didn't approve of was downright sickening.

It didn't help that the red head's primary target was Harry Potter. Despite the boy being in Ravenclaw and not the 'hated' Slytherin, foolish Ronald was dead set on declaring Harry a traitor to the wizarding world, merely because his school house was not Gryffindor.

Now was just such an instance, as they waited outside the Charms classroom on Halloween the period before dinner and the feast that had been building in anticipation for the entire month. They were supposed to be practicing the Levitation Charm, but the red headed idiot thought it would be far more productive to whisper with his fellow Gryffindor boys and made stupid jokes from across the room.

"Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick said from the pile of books behind his desk, kindly instructing them while looking over at Ronald, who quieted while the Professor was speaking at least, which allowed Hermione to run through the incantation in her mind again. Across the room, amid the other Ravenclaws, Harry was silent as well, paying keen attention to his Head of House.

Casting spells was far more than just waving your arms and saying the words, Hermione had learned quite early on. There was precision required, and a strong amount of will to power what you wanted the magic to accomplish. Ronald and the other Gryffindors probably knew that too, but just didn't seem willing to put in the effort.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" he bellowed lazily, waving his arms like a windmill.

Hermione tried to block out the idiot as long as she could, but when his arm holding the wand came within inches of striking her face, Hermione reached her boiling point. "Stop, stop!" she said at the red haired boy, "You're going to put someone's eye out, besides your saying the incantation wrong. The second syllables need to be longer, _Wing-_ gar - _dium Levi-_ o _-sa_."

Naturally, the boy's reaction was less than ideal. "You do it then," he said hotly, "if you're so clever, go on!"

Sighing inwardly, and glancing up at Harry across the room, Hermione obliged the nitwit, flicking her wand gentle, " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " the feather rose gentle off the desk and hovered upward about four feet in the air.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick said, clapping to get the entire room's attention, "See here everyone, Miss Granger's done it!"

Smiling at Harry, her only real competition in the class, Hermione was amazed to see that he had set his own wand aside, gesturing with his hands in strange ways at the feather, which sparked with purple energy as it too lifted off the ground, soaring through the air to join hers above the class.

"And Mr. Potter as well!" Flitwick said happily, turning to his favored student, although Hermione understood exactly why the boy was favored, he spent more time with the Charms Master than anyone else in the castle. Although she noticed the quizzical and almost concerned look that Professor Flitwick gave the boy when he noticed that Harry was not using his wand for the spell, although he did not draw attention to that fact.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked as the class ended and they joined the throngs heading down to the Great Hall.

"Do what?" Harry replied dumbly, smiling slightly.

"You know what I mean Harry, you levitated that feather without even touching your wand." Hermione persisted, but then someone knocked into her.

"Who cares what the stupid traitor did?" Ronald Weasley said rudely as he passed, "He's nothing but a washed out hero that couldn't live up to what was expected of him…"

"By who?" Hermione demanded, now truly angry, "You? The other students? Who do you think you are to try and demand how someone else is supposed to act or behave? Of all the pig-headed…"

"It's truly no wonder why he's the only one in the school that can stand you Granger," Ronald said snidely, which bit deeply into Hermione emotionally.

Hermione turned abruptly and simply left, not wanting to deal with it anymore. She didn't stop walking until she bolted herself in one of the stalls of a girl's bathroom, simply letting her hot anger stew about the boy and his rudeness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan wasn't sure why he got into this situation, but Weasley's comments about Hermione were the last straw. Years of living among a race far more physically strong than himself had done much toward building his muscle mass, even if he wasn't terribly large by human standards, but that didn't stop him from lifting the irritating boy from the ground with both hands around his robe front.

Nobu'tan spun sharply and sent the red haired boy slamming into the wall of the corridor, even as flames started to creep up his arms. Oh how easy it would be to simply snuff out the boy's existence, one bright blossom of felfire and it would all be over, but then he would be found out by the Archmages and they would try to end him. So Nobu'tan settled with stalking off, away from the boy and the direction that Hermione had gone.

He knew far better than to try and talk to her while her anger flared, having been on the receiving end of it once or twice himself for innocent, if not ignorant, comments.

Not even the decorations or food of the feast did much to settle him however, as he had full view of the Gryffindor table, and the gluttonous pig shoveling everything within reach into his mouth made him wish to unleash his newest Succubus minion upon the brat.

For better or worse, that potential event was forestalled by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, sprinting into the hall, yelling at the top of his lungs about a troll in the dungeons, and sinking to a dead faint right in front of Archmage Dumbledore.

Instant panic erupted, children screaming and standing to flee all around. For his part Nobu'tan was merely confused. Certainly he knew what a troll was, and the danger it could present here to the children, but shouldn't Quirrell have been more than a match for the tree climbing headhunter, especially in the castle dungeons where there'd be little places for it to hide?

"Silence!" Dumbledore bellowed, his voice magically magnified to ring from every corner of the hall, which stunned the frightened students to silence. Once suitably quiet, the Archmage gave instructions for the Prefect students to escort their houses back to the various dormitories throughout the school, while he and the Professors would go to the dungeons to find and eliminate the troll.

Nobu'tan wasn't too concerned, but seeing how the children reacted in such a blind panic, he felt that Hermione might want to at least return to her dormitory with the others, just in case the wizard's fear of the troll was founded on some information that Nobu'tan wasn't aware of.

Slipping away from the line of Ravenclaws was ridiculously easy, the Prefects so sure that none of their charges would wander off with the creature loose. Even as he followed the route that the ley lines of the castle gave him that led to Hermione's location, Nobu'tan was forced to duck out of sight several times to avoid knots of students, first Gryffindor, then later Hufflepuff, as they fled to their own houses.

A third time, he dodged behind the stature of a gryphon as Severus Snape stalked past, going not in the direction of the dungeons but to the third floor, where Nobu'tan knew the source of unfamiliar magic resided. Curious, but altogether unimportant at the moment, as not several corridors later a pungent order invaded the warlock's nose, of waste and uncleanness that brought back vivid memories to his mind of a specific denizen of the Horde.

Then he spotted it rounding the corner of the far side of the corridor; an Ogre, one headed and stupid, lumbering along with its club dragging on the floor toward a closed door. Why in the Nether did these foolish wizards think that this creature was a troll? The reason was cast aside as the creature reached for the door, which from his magical senses Nobu'tan knew that Hermione was behind.

"Ogre!" he yelled, slipping into the orcish language from the familiarity of the creature, which turned to look at him stupidly, scrunching up its face as it tried to understand. Nobu'tan thought for a moment that it recognized the language of the Horde, but the creature bellowed a challenge a moment later, and swinging its club high, charged at him down the corridor.

But Nobu'tan was a warlock of the Stormreaver Clan; he would not run from this challenge. Drawing together the powers of the Arcane, elements and the Void, he prepared to fight the massive beast. He would attempt to hold back on Fel magic as long as possible, but this was easily going to be a true test of his powers over the magical forces, like it or not.


	10. C9: Magic of Another World

**Thx to the great review over the last pair of weeks, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Nine**

 **Magic of Another World**

Hermione was startled out of her anger and self pity but a bellowing roar just outside the bathroom she was hiding inside. She knew she was missing the Halloween feast, and it was likely that the sound was simply part of the festivities, but something down inside her feared that it might not be. Sating from her position perched on the lid of a toilet, she quickly made her way to the door, crinkling her nose at the awful stench that seemed to waft from outside in the corridor. If this was some sort of prank, she was going to be mightily cross with whoever was doing it.

An almighty crash jarred her from the thought, and she wrenched open the door, eyes widening as she say the massive creature charging down the corridor at Harry Potter of all people. The boy stood defiantly against the rampage, magic whipping around him as a mass of water droplets congregated before him, forming a creature made from the element, which began to throw gallons of torrential water at the beast, which Hermione recognized as a troll.

The troll roared in anger, trying to push through the geyser of water being pumped at it by the elemental creature, even as Harry conjured a massive, molten fireball and hurled the orb at the troll, catching it in the chest. A scream of pain, and the troll was staggering back, swatting at the patch of its leathery hide that had caught aflame, while the small water elemental darting around it, slamming bodily into the troll to keep it off balance.

But Harry refused to stop there. Eyes starting to glow a strange, purple radiance, he raised a hand, causing pure magic to detonate all up the troll's body, miniature explosions tearing jagged cuts into the flesh, even as the power seemed to build up in the amazing boy. Hermione could only watch in shock and awe as Harry lifted off the ground with the force of the magic, before spreading his limbs wide, and unleashing a barrage of purple and white bolts in all directions, which turned and homed in on the troll, slamming into it with concussive force.

The beast was thrown well past Hermione, colliding with the stone was beyond with a thunderous crash. Taking her chance, Hermione ran toward Harry, even as the boy advanced on the troll, magic seeming to roll off of him like sweat.

But the troll wasn't finished yet either. Roaring in complaint and anger, it swung madly with its club, catching the elemental with a strong swing, and causing the magically animated water to disperse, drenching the ground over which it had hovered. Fire leapt to life in Harry's hands, and flaming spheres were thrown at the troll in succession, like a baseball pitcher, over and over, slamming into the torso and legs of the great beast, before a lucky one detonated, setting the monster on fire once again.

Roaring its indignation, the troll tried to lurch to its feet, but Harry conjured once again a massive molten sphere, causing it to crash upon the head of the creature, exploding with a terrible bang, and sending the troll crashing to the ground one final time.

Chest heaving with the exertion, Harry knelt, trying to gather his strength, even as Hermione went to him. The sound of running feet suddenly became audible as the troll fell silent, and within moments they were surrounded by very confused and worried Professors.

"What on… oh my goodness!" Professor McGonagall said as she spotted the troll's smoldering body. "Ex…explain yourselves, both of you!" she demanded, worried anger on her face, while Professor Snape went to examine the body of the slain creature. Professor Quirrell was present as well, but looked merely overwhelmed at the sight, and slumped against a nearby column of stone.

Still gasping for air, Harry spoke, "Hermione…didn't…know…about… the Ogre…" Professor McGonagall didn't seem to understand, so Hermione took over. "He was looking for me, as I hadn't come down to the feast because someone had upset me. There was no way I would have known about the troll. And from the looks of it, Harry saved my life by attacking it, as I was in that bathroom that it's currently next to."

"Is this true Potter?" McGonagall asked, looking at the boy for confirmation. Still trying to regulate his breathing, Harry could only nod, but he was slowly regaining control. He sat on the cold floor and leaned back on his hands, trying to relax his body from the exertion.

"Even still, it was a very foolish thing to do, tackling a fully grown mountain troll, and alone at any rate." The Transfiguration Professor said, but her voice was wavering as she looked over Harry's unharmed body, then over at the quite dead troll. "Professor Dumbledore will hear of this, but there will be no punishment for your noble intentions, we merely want to know how you managed it, when you're able to tell us."

Harry seemed to act as though a punishment would be preferable, which confused Hermione, but soon enough she was being escorted back to Gryffindor Tower by Professor Quirrell, leaving Harry alone as Dumbledore arrived personally. Whatever the outcome, it didn't matter to her; Hermione knew that Harry cared about her, to go out of his way to save her life, and she would always remember that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus couldn't believe his eyes when he, Professor McGongall and Quirrell rounded the corner to the girl's restroom. Potter, kneeling in a state of clear magical exhaustion, with the Granger girl huddled behind him, while a fully grown mountain troll lay dead at the opposite wall of the corridor.

Leaving the head of Gryffindor to take care of the children, Severus immediately went to investigate the corpse, feeling a vast wafting of foreign magic coming from the blackened body. It was not possible, and Severus' eyes widened as he saw the various fire, frost and pure magical residue that littered the troll's filthy, leathery hide.

The levels of magic present just could not have come from a single first year wizard, and turning back to glance at Potter, Severus wondered what sort of magic the boy had touched to allow such a feat. What was more, the magic was not dark in the slightest.

Turning as Granger was dismissed and Albus arrived, Severus got the old wizard's eye and transmitted his concern wordlessly, which cause the old man to come to him first, instead of going straight to the boy. Albus looked at the corpse, brow furrowing in concern at the heavy amount of magic that resided in the air, but also confused at the sheer power behind it with absolutely no darkness. But to Severus' consternation, the old man merely smiled, before turning back to Potter and beckoning the boy to them.

"Would you care to explain the heavy amount of magic that is still on this troll's body, Mr. Potter? We would be most intrigued to learn how a first year, with little magical training could harness such a vast amount so quickly, with barely the hint of exhaustion." The Headmaster said congenially.

Potter looked as though he wanted to do just about anything but that, but the boy was indeed trapped now, with so much evidence it was unlikely that Albus would allow him to escape without a satisfactory answer.

"I learned it from the moment I could walk and talk," Potter replied neutrally, avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"From who?" Albus persisted gently, but the boy looked as though he had been slapped.

"There were a few, but primarily my mentor, an Archmage of Dalaran…" he said after a moment. Severus for one didn't believe a word of it, knowing that there was no such place as Dalaran, nor that anyone in the Wizarding World used the title of 'Archmage' anymore, the title seen as some sort of hierarchy that was unfit in a modern society.

Albus however, once more to Severus' annoyance, seemed to accept the answer without question, but instead press a different line of thought, "And what sort of magic is it? I ask only because it is most unfamiliar to me personally which, if I may say so, is extraordinary in and of itself."

"The magic of the Arcane," Potter replied, which Severus heard but did not understand.

"I'm afraid that I do not know what you mean by 'Arcane,' Harry," Albus pressed. The boy turned away, obviously not wanting to discuss his past, or more likely hiding something of great importance, but eventually answered.

"It's a form of magic quite different from your own." He explained slowly, and both adult wizards waited as the boy spoke, "From what I've seen, this whole school teaches that magic is used from within, drawing from a personal pool of it in your very core, very fast but tiring after a time or extended use. The Arcane differs greatly in this as you do not pull magic from yourself, but draw it to you from assorted Ley Lines scattered across the world, several of which happen to converge under this very building. The magic that passively radiates from it powers the wards on the castle, but can also be tapped for personal use, not nearly as readily, as it requires a special ritual or knowledge on how to use them, but once done it is nearly an infinite source of power, so long as you can channel it."

Severus could not believe his ears as the eleven year old boy waxed deeply into magical science that he had never heard of, but the boy seemed more than confident about its existence, and the fact of the dead troll at their feet stood as proof that it just might be real. "Fascinating," Albus said, smiling, "I presume that there are bountiful means and ways to harness this magic, other than for purely destructive purposes?"

"Naturally, albeit I was trained to use this magic to defend myself primarily, but I suspect there are other methods that I do not know as of yet." Potter replied, looking more than ready to leave, and weaving slightly as he stood there.

Albus noticed this immediately, and sighed, "Well, I suppose that this conversation, highly thrilling though it may be for us, should wait until you're rested and once again at full capacity. We thank you for your honesty, Harry, off you trot to bed, although I daresay that you're house is probably continuing the Halloween feast in the common room as well, so whatever you wish to do to spend your evening. Good night." Albus said dismissively, and Potter nodded, walking slowly away while resting a hand against the wall to support himself.

Once the boy was gone, Severus turned to the Headmaster, "Thoughts?" he said swiftly.

Albus was stroking his long beard, studying the troll as he thought. "I am not inclined to believe Harry to be lying, not when he seemed so irritated to give up even that much information, but at the same time it is indeed hard to believe… I mean, the term Archmage hasn't been used since…" at that Albus paused, eyes widening as he considered something else.

"What?" Severus asked, "Albus, what is it?"

"The last Archmage to be worthy of the title was Merlin, was it not Severus?" Albus asked quietly, before simply walking away back toward the stairs leading up to his office. Severus could only gape at the man, unsure what had just occurred to distract the Headmaster so effectively.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus couldn't believe that he hadn't figured it out before. Harry's secrecy, the ancient seeming magic that tapped into the very land itself, the title of Archmage, it all appeared that it would add up to a very particular solution, one that Albus was hesitant to guess at.

Merlin was the last Archmage to live, and no one ever confirmed the nearly all powerful wizard's death after his great duel with Morgan le Fay. If, and it was a very great if, Harry had learned this magic from Merlin himself, then it would give a massive indicator of just how powerful the boy could be.

Returning swiftly to his office, Albus set to pacing the floor. Most of the questions regarding Harry could be answered with the concept that Merlin had taught him, but there was still some questions, such as where he had been, and what this 'Dalaran' place was that he had mentioned.

It was odd, but Albus felt no satisfaction from figuring out this puzzle as he usually had with all others, but perhaps that was because it only spawned even more questions. Albus' thoughts raged with hundreds of things that he could potentially learn about the master wizard from Harry, not to mention how to access this Arcane magic for himself, which would be a great advantage when Lord Voldemort returned.

And that thought spun itself off to Albus recalling the stone that was hidden on the third floor, just waiting for the madman to try and seize it, like he had this very evening. It was good of Severus to be so bold as to confront Quirrell there, even if he was wounded in the process by the Cerberus. Amid all the confusion with the troll, Albus was certain that even the Potion's master had forgotten the wound, but the limp he had was quite obvious.

It would still prove an excellent point of testing for Albus to gently guide Harry to investigate the third floor himself, and eventually confront Quirrell. Some sensory magic in the room that would house the mirror would not go unadvised, and perhaps he would be able to see some of this arcane magic first hand.

Until then, Albus merely whispered a fifty point increase to Ravenclaw's house points, smiling to himself at the thought of all the surprised and cheerful faces that would blossom in the house of eagles when they saw the drastic change. The rumors were probably already spreading, even if he and the other Professor had nothing to do with it. The portraits alone were horrible gossips, and the students actually paid attention when it was something to do with one of their own.

Albus fully expect Harry to be heralded as a hero, if not the reincarnation of Merlin to his fellow students by lunchtime tomorrow, and set about with his evening tasks before retiring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the indecent with the ogre, Nobu'tan felt the scrutiny of the Professors shoot up well over a hundredfold. Even Flitwick, his head of house and personal favorite, paid him extra attention when there was nothing of importance for the Charms Master to focus on, and it unnerved the young warlock.

He knew that telling Dumbledore and Snape partial truths about the Arcane would not be pleasant for him, but it was unavoidable. The old man could tell when he was lying, Nobu'tan was sure of it, and so long as his ties to the Burning Legion and Gul'dan were protected, all else was expendable.

The whispers among the students grew as well, mentioning some man named Merlin that Nobu'tan hadn't heard of before, but he presumed that it had something to do with whatever conjecture they had created to explain where he had been for his entire life. That was the beauty of his position. There was nothing outside of his affiliation with demons that would significantly hurt him, as these fools had never heard of Azeroth before, let alone the concept of other populated worlds.

The month called November began, and the weather started to turn colder, much similar to the same time of cold in the area around Stormwind and Kaz Modan. Nobu'tan wished that his fur robes were allowed to be worn, but most of the children simply wore their heavier cloth cloaks, which the young warlock felt was not nearly enough to conserve precious body heat.

Most of the students started to get excited about some game of Quidditch that was to start being played publicly for them all to observe, and while Nobu'tan enjoyed flying on the strange items far more than he expected, watching others fly didn't have the same appeal.

So, instead of being down at the stadium with the vast majority of the school to watch the beginning of their tournament, Nobu'tan was up on the seventh floor practicing his rituals and other magic. His fight with the ogre had given him some ideas of new tactics and abilities that he could have employed better. More mobility might have allowed Nobu'tan to lead the ogre away, and area covering powers may have been used to box the beast in with powerful demonic fire.

But one of his newest tricks would prove to help him in scouting out the castle and other areas while not endangering himself or even betraying his presence if discovered. Even now Nobu'tan watched himself, sitting cross legged on the ground channeling the spell that powered the little sphere-like glowing eye.

The spell, which Nobu'tan jokingly named the Eye of Kil'rogg after the one eyed orc that had looked rather favorably upon him back in Azeroth, was simple enough to cast, but needed to be channeled to maintain and took all of the casters senses away from their body, transferring them to the stealthy and flying eye.

Dismissing the spell, as it was limited to the room he was in, Nobu'tan prepared to go somewhere out of the way so he could test the range of the spell, but as he started down from the seventh floor, Hermione Granger turned the corner from where the young warlock expected Gryffindor Tower was located.

"Harry," she called in greeting, running up to join him, "I'd've expected you to be at the Quidditch game with everyone else."

Nobu'tan shrugged, "Watching others fly isn't especially entertaining. How about you though?"

Hermione shrugged as well, "About the same reasoning I expect. But it's good that I ran into you Harry, there's something that I wanted to ask."

Nobu'tan braced himself for the bombardment of questions along the same lines as Dumbledore's, but he was surprised by what she actually asked. "I want to learn those spells you used against the troll. The sheer power was nothing that I had ever expected from what we would be taught in our first year, which means that it's something that you alone know about, and I want to learn it."

Lifting his eyebrows, Nobu'tan paused at the very notion. Could these backward wizards be taught to learn the Arcane? He hadn't really considered the concept when Dumbledore had mentioned it, and the old man didn't meet with Nobu'tan again as of yet, but at the same time…

If Nobu'tan was a denizen of this world originally, and he learned the fel magic of Gul'dan as well as the Arcane power of the Kirin Tor, that would mean that these others could conceivably learn as well. And having a close ally would be most welcome at this point.

"I suppose it would be possible," he said slowly, "But be prepared to completely change your concept of magic, there is a mighty difference between the magic taught here and the Arcane."

"I'll try to keep an open mind," Hermione said with a smile, "so when can we begin?"

"Give me some time to think about how to begin, perhaps a week or two," Nobu'tan said, stalling for time. He had much to consider, especially how much he could teach this girl without giving away crucial information that could easily be transferred through the rumor mill back to Dumbledore.

Things would have to be done extremely slowly for this to work, and what was more, if Hermione would be willing to learn, perhaps there would be others that were willing to learn, and be much more easily swayed to his side of this madness. More allies would be welcome if he was to try and get back to Azeroth and have some measure of vengeance on Dumbledore for keeping him here.

For the moment though, the girl departed happy, which left Nobu'tan back to his original scheme of testing the Eye of Kilrogg. Retiring to an empty classroom just off Ravenclaw Tower, Nobu'tan settled into a meditative position, incanting the spell to summon the observational eye.

The distortion of his consciousness switching to the tiny floating eye was jarring, but soon enough he was darting through the air as the tiny, fiery green eye. Corridors blurred by as the eye whizzed along, skimming through open doors and bobbing along as it floated.

Once he reached the grand staircase, Nobu'tan decided to have some fun. Launching the eye into the air, Nobu'tan felt the joy of flying as the sphere darted at high speeds through the open area, dodging the stairs as they occasionally changed positions at random.

When he finally grew bored of that, Nobu'tan changed course drastically, speeding to the ground floor and through the open door to the entrance hall, squeezing through an open window above the front doors and exiting to the open air of the grounds.

Once out in the open, Nobu'tan took to the sky, soaring up and around the owlery, and for the sheer joy of it, darted toward the crowded stadium. The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams were darting all around, chasing that various balls as part of the game.

Dipping through the confusion, Nobu'tan circled the field once, getting a good view of what was happening. It seemed that the Slytherin team was flattening the Gryffindors with cheap tactics and a heavy amount of cheating, but that was rather unimportant to Nobu'tan.

The vantage point given to him via the eye allowed him to spy around mostly undetected by anyone around the stadium. Naturally, it helped that most people were also focused on the game and therefore too distracted to notice the shimmer of magic that hid the floating green and orange eyeball from being seen. But, as Nobu'tan flew up around the box that the Professor were sitting in, the eye spotted something rather strange and interesting.

While Dumbledore was currently absent from watching the game, which was the first and pure reason that Nobu'tan even dared to send the little thing out to this spot, the eye spotted that both Professors Snape and Quirrell were easily tracking its motion, seeing through its disguise and probably wondering greatly at the sight. What was more, because of the eyes enchantments, it was able to pick up the massive assortment of soul based fel magic on Quirrell, radiating off the man in waves and yet no one else seemed to notice it.

However, with the eye revealed to these two, Nobu'tan did not have the time to linger and observe. Turning and darting away across the pitched, Nobu'tan steered the eye toward the castle, flying just over the stands where the Slytherin students were sitting. Once the eye was within range of the castle, Nobu'tan dismissed the spell, feeling his consciousness rush like a speeding arrow back to his body, which disoriented him greatly as vision and hearing returned to him.

Even as he stood and prepared for dinner to start down below, as the game was about to be finished, Nobu'tan was smiling. The field test went perfectly with little to no hitches, and the Eye of Kil'rogg would be a great asset to him in keeping his true knowledge a secret.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was steadily growing bored with the progress of the Quidditch match. Slytherin was going to win, and it wasn't even an idle boast. The Gryffindor team had a shoddy seeker and simply couldn't keep up with the points that the chasers were racking up, so the blond first year allowed his mind and attention to wander.

That was the only reason that he was looking straight up just as the strangest thing he ever saw flew over the Slytherin stands. At first it was a shimmering blur, but then magical concealment peeled away before his eyes and a large, Bludger sized eye with a mane of green fire soared over them towards the castle.

What was stranger was that it seemed that only he and maybe Theodore Nott seemed to notice. Both boys tracked the orb as it flew towards the castle and vanished over a hill before the entrance, and shared a confused look with each other, before casually standing and making their way from the stadium.

They had only made it out when the crowd roared in approval from the Slytherin stands, and Draco presumed that the game just ended with a Slytherin victory. Unfortunately for the Quidditch fans, he was no longer interested; this new mystery had usurped his attention well over the game results.

"I presume you saw the strange glowing eye as well?" he asked Theodore, who nodded as they walked well ahead of the crowd starting to exit the pitch.

"What do you think it was?" the boy responded, his quiet voice barely audible over the crowd behind them.

Draco had known Theodore for a while, since they were little children and the current batch of Slytherin first years were all tutored together. While Draco had been made to spend the majority of his time with the burly lumps that were Vincent and Gregory, Theodore was his real best friend. The two had equally respectable families, and while the weedy boy was not the greatest conversationalist, he was brilliantly talented when it came to memory and facts, and it both amused and intrigued Draco with all the random facts that the boy collected.

"I have no idea, but maybe we'll catch a glimpse of it again before reaching the castle." Draco replied. Unfortunately they did not see the orb again, but the castle doors were partially open, so they pair of Slytherin first years decided to just go to the Great Hall for dinner, and ponder what they might have seen.

"Well, it was the shape of an eye," Theodore said, speculating, "So it could very easily have been some sort of spell for spying or observing, perhaps a parent watching their child during the Quidditch game, or maybe even Dumbledore…"

The pair shared a look. Despite their parent's great dislike for the Headmaster, both boys had been taught strictly to respect the man for the offices he held, as well as the vast magical and political power that he controlled. It was a fact, Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard in Britain, even the Dark Lord had known it, and feared the man for that. Draco would not put it past the barmy old man to have devises such a spying spell, but he wondered why he and Theo were so easily able to pierce the concealment magic on whatever it was and see it.

They continued to discuss the object as they turned from the Entrance Hall and entered the Great Hall, where Draco paused, considering what he saw. Potter was already seated at the Ravenclaw table, casually reading a book as he waited for the meal to begin.

"Theo," he said slowly as they walked past the raven haired Ravenclaw, "do you recall seeing Potter at the match?"

The weedy boy thought for a moment, "I do believe he was not there, I scanned the crowd right when the game started, and he does rather stick out…"

"Do you think…?" Draco started, and Theo widened his eyes at the implication.

"It's possible…" he said, thinking quickly, "not nearly as probable as Dumbledore mind, but who knows where Potter's been all these years or what he's learned. But how would we confirm it?"

"Leave that to me," Draco said, glancing across at the Ravenclaw even as the rest of the school started filling in for dinner, and the sound level rose dramatically. He knew that classes were starting to wind down for the approaching Christmas holidays, and there would be ample opportunity to catch Potter before or after classes in the coming week alone.

However, to Draco's surprise, opportunity knocked far quicker than even he had expected. The next day, Sunday, while there were no classes for all students, he and Theodore were going up to the library to complete a potions assignment for Professor Snape, when they spotted Potter getting directions from Madam Pince, who smiled fondly at the boy as he turned to walk to where the woman had directed.

"He can even charm the old crone of the library… freaky," Theodore said quietly as they entered. Whatever book Potter was after was in his hands when the boy reappeared, and he sat down at a table strewn with various parchments and a few other books, but there was plenty of space. The two Slytherins exchanged a look and a nod, before taking their assignment and books and sitting across from Potter.

"Hello Potter," Draco said casually, and the boy hummed in response, thoroughly engrossed in the book he was scanning. "Typical Ravenclaw," Theodore joked lightly, smirking at Draco.

"Ah well," Draco sighed, "and here we were thinking that Potter might know something about the eye that flew over the Quidditch Pitch yesterday."

The boy paused, and Draco grinned in victory. He did know about it. Potter set the book down and looked up at the pair of them, green eyes carefully scrutinizing each of the Slytherins, "You both saw it too?"

"Of course, but how do you know about it," Nott said, catching on to the trap Draco had set, "especially when you weren't at the game…"

That did it. The boy narrowed his eyes, knowing that he was caught. "So it was you, then," Draco said, striking for the heart of the matter.

"And if it was, what then?" Potter said suspiciously, his face turning to ice. Draco was quite surprised how Slytherin the boy could become when he felt threatened.

"Then," he said slowly, knowing that Potter probably was use to dealing with people that wanted to use him, such as Dumbledore, and that the last thing they wanted was to make an enemy of the Ravenclaw by pushing him too hard, "we would be more than appreciative to be better acquaintances with someone capable of such interesting magic…"

There was a good few moments of silence as Potter watched the pair of Slytherins impassionedly, seeming to judge the pair of them with his eyes alone. Then Draco felt the tickle of magic as the boy washed a thin veil over them, as though scanning them for enchantment or other indicators of mistrust.

"I suppose it would be possible, but you would have to be used to sharing my time with another, besides my own pursuits as well naturally." Potter said finally, hefting the large book once again. Draco had a feeling that the Ravenclaw referred to the Gryffindor bookworm, Granger, but in truth the girl wasn't too terribly obnoxious. It was more the principle that she was a Mudblood that irked Slytherin house more than her overachieving nature.

However, if it meant closer relations with Potter and his strange magic, then Draco knew that both Theo and himself could hold their tongues. "We will need some sort of proof that you actually know this magic of which we speak." Nott said astutely, and Draco almost kicked himself for not catching that fact. If Potter had just been leading them on they might have been humiliated.

Potter sighed, setting the book down once again, before bringing his hands together before his chest, and a small ball of green flames appearing, with the shape of an eye in the midst of the fire. It was quickly snuffed out again before it drew any extra attention, but the small demonstration was enough for the pair of Slytherin first years. It may start slowly, but Draco and Theodore were both determined to outshine their fathers and their failed allegiance to the Dark Lord, and if this new magic would help them break free, then they owed it to each other to attempt it at any cost.

But who knew when or what time table Potter had for such a thing, and Draco wasn't sure how long he could wait. As the Ravenclaw returned the book to his hands and began reading it once again, Draco asked casually, "So, Potter, what plans do you have for Christmas day?"

The boy shrugged, "I don't really even know what that is…"

Theodore and Draco exchanged a glance, aghast. How could any wizarding child not know Christmas? "Well, that's settled then," Draco said proudly, "while it's too late for me to invite anyone else to spend the holiday at my family manor this year, I can and will invite you to attend the Malfoy Yuletide festival, on Christmas day at our home in Wiltshire. An owl will come sometime during the break with an invitation and portkey for you."

Harry paused again, but refused to let the book be removed from his hands, "That does sound somewhat delightful, and I accept."

"Excellent," Draco said. Neither Slytherin had touched their essays for Potions but, while the conversation had been far more productive than that, it was almost time for lunch. "We shall depart now," Draco added, checking the time, "I need to write my father regarding the slight change of plans, and then it's almost time for lunch. We'll see you in the Great Hall, Harry."

Potter nodded at the pair of them as they stood to leave, returning to his book almost instantly as the pair of Slytherins made their way to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus smiled as he let the Mirror of Erised land with a gentle bump in the middle of the unused classroom off the Library. Not only was it a good staging ground to hold the mirror for a short time before moving it to the third floor corridor, but it would allow for Harry to stumble across it, and learn how it functioned.

Albus had paid some attention to the boy's activities, outside of his semi frequent disappearances up on the seventh floor, which still confused the old wizard as to where the boy disappeared off to, but so long as nothing untoward was happening, it was a time of privacy that he allowed Harry to have, for now.

Through his network however, Albus knew that the boy was at least aware of something down the third floor corridor, even if the boy hadn't been bold enough to traverse it as of yet. Placing the Mirror here would normally not be enough with the current bookishness and quite one minded obsession with his project that Harry had, but Albus was certain that he could find a means to tempt the boy away to exploring the library at a time he normally ought not to be.

The other Professor may not agree with his idea of encouraging Harry to break the rules, but if in the end the boy was destined to defeat Lord Voldemort, then he could not be tied down by the conventions of magical warfare. This was but one step in a long plan that Albus had come up with for Harry long before the boy had disappeared, and even if he had to modify it last minute for a few changes, it would be effective enough to ensure the downfall of the Dark Lord.

Setting a small ward to notify him if someone entered the room with the Mirror, Albus departed, turning his brilliant mind to finding a reason for Harry to find his little prize, especially with the new time limit he had heard of through the grape vine of Hogwarts. Apparently the Malfoy heir had invited Harry personally to the country manor in Wiltshire for the Malfoy Christmas festival.

If everything had gone according to how Albus would have expected Harry to grow up it would have never happened, but things as they were, he saw little problem with Harry attending the party of a dark family, especially one that had supported Voldemort in the previous war.

The Death Eaters also had no idea the power that Harry had, as a possible student of Merlin himself, and the magical abilities that Harry knew would keep him safe enough. But perhaps to be sure, Albus thought he might convince Severus to accept the invitation for the first time since the first war ended, and go keep an eye on Harry.

And speaking of Harry's powerful magic, Albus had an idea of how to get the boy into the library after hours. All he needed to do now was find the right opportunity to drop the hint at a casual time. As it was still just before the winter holiday, perhaps he needed once final visit with Harry to discuss his unique abilities and ask the boy about what he planned to do over the break.

The next day, Albus did exactly that, summoning the boy after dinner to his office. Harry was prompt, and arrived exactly one minute before the appointed time. "Ah, Harry, punctual as always, have a seat. Lemon Drop?" he offered, which the boy refused. A pity, but Albus was starting to think that Harry might not like sugar as much as other boys his age. Not unusual, but still…

Harry did not begin their conversations, ever, so Albus took the initiative, "Well, Harry, I presume that you've been enjoying all your classes so far into the school year?" Albus asked, starting with pleasantries. Harry nodded, looking around the room at the great collection of tomes and other knickknacks that Albus had collected over the years. The only thing that he seemed to shy away from was Fawkes, but Albus chalked that up to a combination of shyness about animals and the lingering Dark Magic in the boy's body making him uncomfortable in the Light bird's presence. Hopefully time away from such magic would quell it eventually. "I wanted to ask you about your plans for the holidays, going away with any friends?"

"No, Headmaster, for the most part I will remain here at the castle, aside from Christmas day," Harry replied slowly.

"Ah I see, you've been invited to a Christmas party, how delightful," Albus said, allowing his eyes to twinkle grandfatherly.

"I've also called you here to let you know that I found a book in the Hogwarts Library that may allow us to understand your brand of magic a bit better," he said, noticing how quickly the boy reacted, turning his full attention to Albus as he spoke, "it documents a few wizards of past ages that used magic describe very much like your Arcane, as well as great feats with fire and ice. Hopefully between your first hand knowledge and this tome we may unlock even greater secrets."

"That… would be wonderful…" Harry said, pausing at his changed the words he wanted to say. Albus knew that the boy wanted no one to know of his abilities, and it probably galled Harry that Albus and Severus alone knew about them, but that was the price to pay for trying to keep things hidden from him wasn't it?

"Trust us or not, Harry my boy, but we do want to help you. I won't give you the details, but there are those out in the wizarding world that would wish you harm, and your ability in the arcane is an advantage that one cannot pass up on perfecting. Once the holiday is over, I'd like to see some demonstrations of your ability in the arcane, and with the book we may come up with ways for you to improve it?"

"I'd… like that very much, Sir." Harry said, almost gritting his teeth as he withheld great annoyance at Albus. The Headmaster ignored the blatant irritation, knowing that it was a big step that the boy was fighting to be civil over this. "Well, if you don't have anything you'd like to talk to me about, then you may go and enjoy your evening," Albus said after a short while, watching as the boy almost ran for the door. It was going to be an uphill battle with Harry, but Albus was willing to fight it if it was going to be this way, all for the Greater Good.


	11. C10: Yuletide Suprises

**This week... idk, its felt like ages since I last posted, and yet I checked and I'm still on schedule... weird. Still, many thanks to those who review, it brings me great pleasure to know that my work is so appreciated, and that people take an invested interest in the direction that it is going. Some comments I have make use of, and impacts to the story may come in the future, but by and large it gives me the fun knowledge that what I have planned will be a great surprise for everyone... hehehehehehe... enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Ten**

 **Yuletide Surprises**

Nobu'tan wasn't certain what to expect with this 'Christmas' holiday that all the other children seemed so overly excited for. It's not like he knew anyone on this world to give or receive presents from, so what was the point? Still, the holiday came quickly, and soon the castle was all but empty, which suited the orc raised human immensely. Less people around meant that he had more time to go and practice his various arts on his own, as well as continue to make plans and scheme how best for him to slowly allow the study of the Arcane to leak into the Wizarding World.

These things had to be very delicately done. Dumbledore couldn't suspect that he actually _wanted_ them to learn part of his secret powers, even less so how he intended to warp it later when he started teaching others the demonic powers of the Void in secret.

One morning shortly into the holiday, Nobu'tan woke alone in the Ravenclaw dormitory to find the grounds outside the tower window covered in several feet of snow. The lake was also frozen solid, very much resembling the icy area of the Alterac Mountains near Dalaran. Down at the morning meal, which saw the Great Hall significantly reduced with the lack of children, Nobu'tan received his invitation to the Malfoy Yule event, to which he was to be chaperoned by Severus Snape, who was also invited. This was unpleasant, but clearly not to be helped, with his being underage as far as these magic users were concerned.

He would endure it, there had been worse under the hand of Stormreaver warriors that had been tasked with training him like any of the other orc children while he lived and served Gul'dan, and those bouts had left him bloodied and bruised more times than he chose to recall.

On the appointed day, Christmas day, Nobu'tan awoke to a surprise. There was a small pile of brightly wrapped parcels at the foot of his bed, all addressed to him. There were only a select few, which he wasn't surprised to note, but the fact that there were any at all was more than enough for him to be content. A spell book from Hermione Granger, which wasn't remotely surprising given the girl's character, as well as several crystal vials from Theodore and Draco, filled with interesting potions that were described to have rather interesting or humorous effects when added to a person's food.

There was only one other parcel, it was light and cool to the touch as Nobu'tan removed the paper wrapping it. Before he had finished however, something fluid and silver gray slithered out of the wrappings and onto the floor where it lay in gleaming folds.

Picking the item up gingerly, Nobu'tan recognized that it was some sort of cloak, but the material was like nothing he had ever seen before. Walking casually to the mirror, he tossed it over his shoulders to see what it looked like, and nearly gasped when his body vanished from sight. The cloak made whatever it covered invisible.

Spinning in a tight circle to see if he was covered from all angles, Nobu'tan spotted a note fall from the folds of the cloth, and seized it. In narrow, loopy writing it simply said, ' _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you._ "

There was no name attached to the letter, and no other indication of who had sent such a strange, and rather personal gift to him.

Unfortunately, Nobu'tan had little time to actually enjoy the gift, as his invitation had said that the festival would be a daylong event, and he was to meet Professor Snape outside the Great Hall in something other than his school robes to go.

That alone lead to some problems, as the young warlock didn't own anything but his school robes, aside from his old frostwolf fur clothing from Azeroth, and he doubted that they would be considered good enough for the Malfoy's standards. Perhaps he would just wear them anyway, and the Professor would transfigure them into something else for him.

Dashing toward the exit of the room at top speed, Nobu'tan almost bypassed another gift for him that would easily have gone unnoticed. Stopping and almost colliding with one of the beds, he turned back and bent low to pick up the small stone from just beside his trunk, where it had presumably fallen while he was opening the much larger presents.

It was a rune, very basic and used primarily for messages between Azerothian magic users, but this one sent chills up and down Nobu'tan's spine. It was written, neither in any language of these wizards, nor in a language native to Azeroth.

The lettering was the same as that of the Burning Legion.

' _The Masters call for your allegiances, warlock. Find the standing stones and contact us, and your instructions regarding this world will become clear. Might of the Legion be with you…_ '

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius Malfoy was not a man known for his patience, nor for giving in easily to outside influences, but naturally what those on the outside knew or did not know of a man was not always the same as what occurred within the walls of one's home.

The pureblood families were raised by one strong value. Blood mattered, and by blood they meant family. True, purity of blood was important, and those that failed to live to that standard could be cast out and disowned, but even then it was a rarity, a public disgrace to throw out even a squib from the family home unless it was warranted by crimes against the family. Every member had duties and a purpose within a pureblood household, and Lucius was a man of tradition.

So when his sweet son, Draco, requested to invite his distant cousin, Harry Potter, to their Yuletide festival, Lucius could not in good conscious deny it, personal decisions or not. While there would be many Death Eaters gathered here as friends and indeed some family to the Malfoy's, they all knew the same ethics and responsibilities that Lucius would be under. If Potter was invited by any member of the family, than he was welcome in their home.

And so, the day of the festival, here he stood by the fireplace, waiting for his good ally Severus to arrive with the boy in tow from Hogwarts. Hopefully the half-blood child from his wife's family would at least be properly dressed, but Lucius had little hopes for that given what Draco had mentioned regarding the boy's rather abrupt arrival into their world. If that was indeed the case, it would be proper for him to assist in making sure a member of the family adequately represented them, especially as host of this event, and did not cause a scene with anything untoward.

The Floo flared emerald, and Lucius released a sigh he had not been aware that he was holding as Severus and the lad appeared. He did cringe inwardly however at the state of the boy's clothing: some sort of coarse linen robe with a fur cloak that would simply be out of place and inappropriate with the other guests.

Exchanging a glance with Severus that belayed all of the man's limited care about the situation, Lucius understood that it would be up to him to make the boy presentable before the joined the festivities. "Mr. Potter," he said smoothly, exchanging a short handshake with the lad and Severus, "how pleased we are that you've come. And Severus, it's been a long time, has it not?"

The sallow man gave a small jerk of the head, and Lucius communicated with his eyes to leave that pair of them alone for a short time. Even as Severus walked past them toward the entrance hall Lucius noticed that sharp observance of the green eyes to their subtle conversation, the boy was quick then.

"I apologize if my clothing does not meet the required etiquette, sir," Potter said coolly, "but I simply do not own anything else, and the invitation from your son specifically said not to wear my school robes."

Lucius hid the grimace well. This child was heir to one of the wealthiest families in Britain and Dumbledore had him in nothing but school robes and this animal skin? Although on closer inspection Lucius was impressed by the craftsmanship of the clothing, but it still was not the style that he or any of his guests would be wearing, and stick out like a sore muggle in Diagon Alley.

"Quite… understandable Mr. Potter," Lucius replied, catching himself from truly speaking his mind, "I think we may be able to do a few quick transfigurations for something decent for now, but in future I'd recommend you take your time in Diagon or Hogsmeade and actually get a full wardrobe of clothing for the whole year, rather than just school clothes."

"Of course, sir, thank you for the advice." Potter replied graciously, and the boy patiently waited, perfectly still while Lucius did a few basic transfigurations, changing the fur cloak to one that was a bit more seemly, and significantly less gamey, black silk with a bit of the original deep grey fur around the neck, while the linen robe transformed into an emerald green color with a sheen similar to satin or some other material that would be, while not overwhelmingly expensive, at least in line with what most wizards had purchased for their dress robes.

"There," Lucius said after he was finished, "that should last for at least the night, and change back by tomorrow."

"Thank you again very much sir," Potter said as Lucius led him toward the Ballroom, where well near a hundred of Lucius' guests, friends and distant family had gathered for the celebration of Yuletide. Draco appeared rather quickly, along with his best friend Theodore Nott, and the two boys quickly tore Potter away to the corner of the room that the older children had dominated for themselves to be away from their parents.

Lucius didn't mind, it would be better not only for Potter to be away from the other guests who'd want to pester him, but for Lucius so he did not need to explain over and over why the Boy-Who-Lived was in his home.

Glancing around, Lucius noted that Severus was lingering near the same section that Potter had just been all but dragged to, and quick taking up a pair of champaign glasses, Lucius maneuvered through the crowd to his old friend's side.

"Severus I know that these things are dull to you, but must you really make such a show of it?" Lucius said, only a slight edge of teasing in his voice as he handed the Potions Master one of the glasses.

"It's not that only this time I'm afraid," Severus replied, turning momentarily to glance at Lucius and accept the glass, "but my charge is one that I was tasked with keeping an extremely close eye on."

Somehow, Lucius was not terribly surprised by this, "What does the old meddler want with the boy, then? He asked, wondering how much Severus would be willing or able to reveal.

"I'm not sure," the man replied, typically, but Lucius waited. There usually was at least an opinion that garnered some level of accuracy from the esteemed Professor. "But there is something strange about the boy... that much is for certain."

"How so, old friend?" Lucius pushed a bit, handing off his own, now empty, glass to a floating tray as it passed.

"The boy does not speak English naturally, at least not yet, for one thing. He has to use a combination of charms to understand and communicate with those around him, not that any of the dunderheads at the school aside from the other Professors know this, but that alone implies that he has not grown up in or remotely near to Britain. Adding to that his quite mysterious reappearance, and determined reluctance to so much as hint as to where that may have been or who had raised him leads me to suspect some rather, darker, things took place." Severus was very grim as he spoke, and his cold eye never left Potter as he sat on some of the cushioned furniture and listened to the Slytherin children as they played their little games of schoolyard politics.

Lucius also found himself closely considering the boy at that moment, sensing something that ought to have been unusual about the boy, but because of a long familiarity to it Lucius had simply overlooked the sensation. The boy smelled of Dark Magic. Severus would have had to use a spell to notice, being a half blood himself, but most pureblood families still retained the ability to literally smell the magic of an individual, and Potter definitely had the scent of a dark wizard.

Suddenly it explained why his son and the Nott boy were so readily accepting of him, he smelled like one of them, but they were too young to realize what that smell meant. Potter himself was probably unaware, but that still lead to very interesting questions.

"I see," Lucius said slowly, considering his options. The Dark Lord may be gone for good, it was the common consensus between the remaining Death Eaters that were free, and in his absence many were looking to Lucius for leadership.

While it had long been understood that Dumbledore wanted to undermine their ancient heritage by opening their world to all things muggle, and blending the two worlds until there was nothing left that made wizards so great, this information that his supposed golden child Potter wasn't on board with the same ideas, then perhaps the one who defeated the Dark Lord may be the answer they needed.

But for now they would have to wait and watch, because the boy was still young, and spending so much time in the castle controlled by Dumbledore meant that the boy would be exposed to the old man's ideas at an alarming rate.

Walking away to mingle with the rest of his guests, Lucius spared a final glance back at the three eleven year olds. Draco would leap at the chance to spend more time with Potter; perhaps he would be the perfect go between for watching what happened for them over the next several years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco smirked at his two closest friends, even as they relaxed in the small corner of the Ballroom that had been sectioned off by plush couches and chairs for the older children to be separated from their parents and mingle with people their own age. He and Theo had been watching for Harry Potter's arrival, knowing that many of the adults would want to waste his time with talk and other boring activities, and had dragged him away as fast as they could.

Harry was most appreciative when they explained their reasoning, and sat quietly to listen as they discussed their Christmases and the presents they had received. Afterward they had sampled some of the refreshments that had been delayed indefinitely to their side of the room, and spent time identifying the others, primarily the current and former Slytherins, that were at the festival.

The other teens, having mostly seen Harry already at Hogwarts, simply nodded in his direction, with a select few from the nearer years coming to shaking his hand, but otherwise the three eleven year olds were left well enough alone.

"You home is quite nice, Draco," Harry said after a short time, glancing around the Ballroom, yet seeming to refer to something other than just the architecture. Regardless Draco appreciated the proper respect the statement carried.

"Yes, it is rather amazing, quite old as well, owned by the Malfoy's since they built it in the late middle ages."

"And on top of a lay line as well, that must assist handsomely with powering the wards," Harry commented, stunning Draco.

"How did you know that?" he asked, lowering his voice dangerously, "that's a family secret that very few know…"

The boy looked at him curiously, "a secret? How could it be, you can simply feel it in the ambient magic of the building…"

"Theo, I think we three need to have a few words in private," Draco announced for the others around them, and together they subtly frog marched Harry toward the exit. Draco spotted his godfather, Professor Snape, nearby, but the man made no move to intercept or hinder them, so he must have felt that they were safe if they stayed together.

Once out of the Ballroom, the Slytherin boys turned and proceeded up the stairs toward Draco's bedroom, the most private location that Draco knew they could go for a short time. Harry made no protest as they guided him, just neutrally glancing at the art and décor as they passed. Once inside the blue and grey furnishings of Draco's bedroom, he closed and locked the door before turning on Harry.

"It's rather obvious that you don't understand the importance of what you said down there, and thankfully there weren't anyone that were unaware of the secret to overhear us," Draco started.

"I still don't understand why that's a secret, I mean Hogwarts is sitting on top of multiple ley lines, and aside from the fact that they're rather important and useful it's not like wizards here actually use them for much…" Harry protested.

"That's not the point, Harry," Theo said, allowing Draco to continue.

"It's about the prestige of owning the land here, on a powerful conduit of magic, and keeping that knowledge safe is powerful, as there are wards that were created to give the family strength based on the particular line they lived on." he explained, not liking how the Ravenclaw's eyes danced with the information.

"So you wizards do use the power of ley lines directly, for some things…" he said slowly, eyes darting as he thought about something.

"Of course we do, what would be the point of coming near them if we didn't have a use for them?" Theo asked.

"Oh, but your society has barely scratched the surface, and I doubt that they've even thought about the possibilities… I may indeed be the only one. This gives us a terrible and wonderful advantage…" Harry was muttering to himself.

"Hello, Harry, come back to earth now please," Draco tried, waving his hand in front of the other boy's almost dazed face.

"Yes, it's perfect!" Harry suddenly said, as his eyes started to gleam with excitement, "but we'll have to work fast and subtly, hopefully you Slytherins can keep up on that part…"

"Mind informing the rest of us what madness you're scheming?" Theodore said, his voice showing a bit of concern that Draco knew all too well. Theodore was a careful sort, never wanted to try and do anything secret without guarantees that he wouldn't be blamed for it, and Draco understood why. With just he and his father left at home, he had one sole disciplinarian taking care of him during the summer, and Nott Sr. wasn't known to be the most forgiving of people when it came to punishments.

He'd never done more than yell when Draco had been present, but he felt that it sometimes went farther than that when Theodore was younger, so the boy was extra hesitant to do anything that would be too far out of line.

But Harry wasn't listening. Rather, the boy was already chanting some language that neither Draco nor Theodore understood, his hands glowing a malevolent purple as symbols formed out of magic at his feet.

The spell reached a crescendo, and thin purple jets of light snaked upward, forming an oblong orb above Harry's head, and a small rift opened before him. Draco's eye shot up when a creature emerged, skipping in delight as it approached Harry.

It looked somewhat like a House Elf, tiny and barely clothed, but that was where the similarities ended. Apart of the long ears and horns jutting from the thing's head, its tail that snapped around as the creature eyed its surroundings menacingly, strangely the thing Draco focused on most was the stench of brimstone and the magical fire that seemed to be generated by the little thing continually.

"Wha-what is that?!" Theodore said, shrinking back slightly.

"Quzkol," Harry said, the word obviously being the creature's name, as the little thing turned and looked up at the other wizard, "These two speak a language quite unlike the common or orcish of Azeroth, play nice and introduce yourself…"

If anything, the pouting of the little beast was only about as humorous as it was frightening, as the thing revealed that its mouth was filled with tiny sharp fangs. It started speaking in another language, harsh sounding and quite unpleasant, before Harry flicked his wand at it once.

"…an imp, and if you think you're gonna mess with me I'll rip you ap… Hey! What did you do to me just now?" the creature said, its voice quite high and irritating. The creature, an imp Draco thought he heard it say, turned back to glare at Harry, who only smirked in response.

"Simply made it so that they could understand what you were babbling about, threats are quite useless unless the hearer actually knows which body part you want to break off of them…" Harry replied, clearly more amused than serious.

"Oh, well warn a guy next time, I don't like foreign magic being cast on me without my permission…" the imp complained, dancing around on its tiny feet.

"Harry, what this about?" Draco asked, ignoring the imp now, as it seemed little more than a servant to the Ravenclaw.

"This," Harry said, gesturing at the imp, "is a creature not native to this world… that through the magic I know I have been able to summon and bind to my will…"

"Hey" the imp said, annoyed, "I resent that."

"And," Harry continued, also ignoring the imp, "I can teach you both how to summon and control ones like him, and more powerful creatures from the Void. Granted I'll need assurances of secrecy, and help in some of my other plans from you both."

Draco exchanged a glance with Theodore. "What can this little one do?" Theo asked, his eyes never leaving the imp.

"Little! The nerve of some people!" the being protested, before fire started to inch up its arms, forming a small ball in its clawed hand.

"Quzkol… out the window with it, we don't want unnecessary damages. There will time enough for destruction later." Harry rebuked it, before flicking his wand to open the window. The imp spun, and launched a sizeable green fireball out the window, which soared out to the ward line of the manor and exploded into a relatively small burst of flame.

The creature was already winding up with another when Harry called for it to stop. "You may return to the Twisted Nether for the time being Quz, I'll call you when you're needed again."

Grumbling as it went, the imp vanished through a small hole that it quickly punched into time and space, vanishing with less than a pop of sound. Theodore watched where it had gone for several moments, before looking at Harry again, "And you say there are other things you can summon like that as well?"

"Yes," Harry affirmed, "but they are much larger and more dangerous than the little imp, so they'd best be summoned in a more secure location."

"Well, I'm willing to learn this," Draco said, "and I can give you a wizard's oath to its secrecy, Slytherins understand the importance of subtly."

"I… need time to think about this, can I give you an answer when term restarts?" Theodore asked, looking nervous. Harry glanced at Draco, who nodded his vouch for Theo's honesty. "I'll need an explanation as to why you delay at some other time, but I will allow you time to think, so long as you keep this as it is meant to be, a secret."

Theo nodded, subdued. Draco checked on the time, "I think we need to go back down before we're missed…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus glared angrily around the ballroom as the festival continued. He had not originally wanted to attend, as per his usual, but Dumbledore insisted that he chaperone Harry bloody Potter to this event, a task that he now doubly hated.

At least the boy was not causing any more chaos, aside from the ridicules choice of apparel that he had selected, which Lucius had had to correct. Although where the boy was after going upstairs with Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, Severus could not say.

The sooner they could leave the better as far as he was concerned, more so before anyone from the Death Eaters or Ministry realized that the boy was present. How Lucius alone had realized that the boy had the taint of Dark Magic on him so quickly, Severus did not understand, but what was done was done, and Albus would just have to deal with it.

Soon enough, the three boys reappeared, and Severus started to make his way toward them, when the worst occurred.

"I say, it's Harry Potter!" someone in the crowd said, very loudly, and all heads turned. Potter froze like a deer in wandlight at all the sudden attention, eyes wide as though he had been up to something. Draco and Theodore flanked him instant as many from the crowd pressed forward to speak with Potter or merely shake his hand.

Severus hung back slightly, as did many of the Death Eaters that were still free, along with Lucius who had already known the boy was here. But as the minutes dragged on, Severus sighed as he decided to go in and rescue the boy from being smothered to death.

Circling around the far side of the crowd, closer to where Potter had been, Severus pushed in through the gathered people, many making way for the illustrious potions master. When he finally could see the boy clearly, Severus had to admit he was impressed with what he saw.

Malfoy and Nott were funneling people through one at a time to be with Potter, and the boy was taking everything in stride, introducing himself to person after person, and having brief moments of idle chatter with them before they were ushered on by the other two boys.

"I believe Mr. Potter has had quite enough introductions today," Severus announced, parting the last of the people in his way to the boys. The three visibly relaxed upon seeing him, which made Severus inwardly cringe. Only his Slytherins were supposed to be happy to see him.

Walking up to and placing a hand on Potter's shoulder to emphasize his point, Severus spoke to the crowd again. "I believe there are many other parts of this festival to attend to, and Mr. Potter has to be returning to Hogwarts now, will everyone please clear a path."

Smirking to himself as he was instantly obeyed, Severus guided Potter out of the mass of people, with Draco and Theodore trailing behind to ward off people from following.

"Thank you, Professor," Potter said quietly, so that only Severus heard. Nodding once in acknowledgement of the thanks, Severus steered the boy out of the ballroom altogether, they stepped quickly to the Floo fireplace.

"Mr. Malfoy, it was a pleasant evening," Severus said politely as Lucius came in after them, "but we shall bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir. Draco, Theo…" Potter said, shaking all three of their hands before entering the emerald fire that Severus had prepared for him. Nodding curtly at Lucius one final time, Severus took the channel back to Hogwarts castle.

The boy was already gone when Severus arrived, but he couldn't care less at this point, instead going straight up to the Headmaster's office, bypassing the silly gargoyle with its candy-based password.

"Ah, Severus, back from the Malfoy's festival are you? Did Harry enjoy himself?" the old man asked as Severus entered his office.

"I wouldn't know, nor do I care," Severus replied, "it was mostly uneventful until some idiot announced to the room that Potter was there, and the boy got swarmed by his fans."

"Oh," Albus said dismissively, "no worse for wear though. Well, no matter, no matter, anything else that happened that I should be aware of?"

"Lucius Malfoy was able to instantly know that Potter had the taint of Dark Magic on him, I'm not exactly sure how, but I deflected his attention about it for the moment,"

"I thought that might happen," the Headmaster replied, looking pensive as he stared off to the side, at a bookshelf. "So other purebloods will be able to sense Harry's power and probably be attracted to the subtle darkness of his magic. This could either prove to be extremely problematic, or work to our advantage, depending on how compliant Harry will be regarding this Arcane magic business. Thank you Severus."

Understanding that he was being dismissed, Severus turned and left, deciding that what he needed after this excursion was a large firewhisky and perhaps a nap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus waited for Severus to depart before running over everything he had learned, directly and indirectly from the man in his mind. Standing and striding out to the center of his office, the Headmaster of Hogwarts began to pace, as he was wont to do when deep in thought.

He had not told his true feelings or thoughts to Severus, because whether the man was good with his Occlumency or not, he was still somewhat of an open book with his emotions, showing it through his anger or displeasure at those who he felt threatened or offended by, and this was sure to lead to an outpouring of dislike for Harry that would neither be helpful or wanted.

Harry was dark, there was no denying it, the taint had slowly grown, as Albus had only felt it as a brief touch at first, and only when he was actively looking for it. For another, less powerful pureblood, or more, to sense it passively through their natural affinities, meant that it had intensified between the beginning of the year and now.

Albus had to quickly find out how the boy was practicing Dark Magic under his own nose, and how it was related to the information that the boy had already been forced to reveal, about his possible knowledge of the Old Ways, the system of magic that predated wandlore.

The book that Albus had found was not something from the Hogwarts library, but an antique book from his family's personal library, dating magical events all the way back to the ancient druids of Britain long before the Roman invasion. It explained that sorcerers and druids alike practiced an art that bent the very elements to their command, empowered by the presence of the ley lines and manifesting as pure magic.

It only served to enforce his shaky idea that some long forgotten mage, like Merlin or some other immortal from ages past, had found and took Harry in, training him in the magic of their times, before returning him to his family home.

But even if this was the case, nothing in the old tome spoke of whether the Old Ways would be considered light or dark magic, quite honestly it seemed that the magic of old was above such labels and simply was, the intent of the wielder changing the magic's purpose as it was directed.

Perhaps it was therefore something other than his newfound magic that gave off the intensifying taint of evil on the boy? Hard to say, but thankfully, even with his father's invisibility cloak, Albus would be able to find the boy through this radiated aura, as there was little that could mask that from those who knew what to look for.

Hopefully Harry found his way to the Mirror of Erised soon, and Albus might glean some information from him before moving the mirror to the third floor corridor to complete his trap for Quirrell and Voldemort.

After that, well, Albus hadn't put much thought into what to do with Harry after the year was out, so focused he was on the trap with Voldemort and figuring out the boy while he was here in the castle. The option to keep him at Hogwarts was out of the question, there was too much that the boy would get into, the library least of all. Too much unrestrained learning in one that was unpredictable at best was not to be allowed. The same went for any of the boy's Slytherin friends, and Albus dared not impose on any of his ally's families as Harry did not know their children directly.

It left really one choice. Lily's sister's family still lived, and they were the closest relatives that Harry had that Albus could remotely trust. The boy would have to stay with them, and Albus would bind blood wards if he could to ensure their mutual protection from outside attackers. Vernon and Petunia Dursley would not like the arrangement one bit, if Lily's stories were even remotely true, but Albus was not going to give them a choice, as there were no other options. They'd take in Harry Potter, even if only for the summers, and that would be it.

Albus pitied the poor Muggles if they thought that they'd enforce any of their hatred of the magical world onto Harry, as it was not only part of him, but quite literally in the boy's blood, and would rebel against that sort of tyranny very quickly. Albus would have to make absolutely certain that they understood that they were only to provide room and board for Harry, but otherwise leave him to his own devices, with the promise that Harry would leave them alone as well. Love may come, if they bothered to get to know one another, but Albus severely doubted it, with how bitter Petunia Evans had become after her sister came to Hogwarts all those years ago.

Albus was brought out of his thoughts by the small magical alarm that he had placed over the room where the Mirror of Erised was kept. "Well, that was fast," he commented aloud, before disillusioning himself and making his way down to the room where it was kept, just off the library.

Sure enough, Harry had wasted no time in using his father's old cloak, and had found the mirror almost immediately. Currently the boy was staring into its depths, a look of great longing on his face while the silvery cloak lay at his feet.

Taking a good long moment to study the boy without being observed, Albus took note of the thin, yet well toned body, a clear indication of much hard work early on in the boy's life, and the weathered look in the boy's eyes that spoke of a long time of seeing the worst of the world. What possible war or devastation had the boy been through, Albus wondered, to have grown up so young?

The boy was desperate, almost remorseful as he put his hands on the glassy surface of the mirror, as though hoping to jump through it into the vision that it placed before his eyes, and his alone.

Hopefully the boy wouldn't realize that just yet and Albus would learn what the boy wanted so badly. "So," Albus said as he cancelled the invisibility spell and the boy jumped in surprise, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan felt a strange new aura in the castle from the moment he and Snape returned from the Malfoy's manor. It also seemed, strangely of all, to be calling for him specifically. Curious, and feeling no commitment to wait for the Potions Master to arrive, Nobu'tan had departed immediately for Ravenclaw tower, to collect his father's old invisibility cloak, as it would prove most useful in avoiding anything if the area turned out to be off limits.

It turned out not to be the case, but it was still good to be able to bypass anyone or anything that might have interrupted his course, such as the poltergeist that had been bouncing off the walls several corridors before the location, which was a room nearby the library. Seeing little reason to remain after investigating, Nobu'tan decided after he had a look at what the new aura was being created by, he would go on to continue looking through the many varied and detailed tomes about magical transportation, hoping to find something similar to the portals of Azeroth for himself to base off of.

But seeing the mirror, standing alone in the empty classroom had halted such thoughts, and with curiosity gripping him fully, Nobu'tan found himself standing before the golden framed glass, staring deeply into it. Long grasslands stretched out behind his reflection, showing the highlands of Azeroth, just as he remembered them from what felt like ages ago. What was more, on his left side was his master, Gul'dan, looking down at him with approval, while other members of the Horde that he had viewed favorably were present as well.

Kil'rogg Deadeye, Zul'jin the forest troll that Nobu'tan had highly respected, even Teron Gorefiend and Cho'gall were all there, standing around him like an extremely bizarre family, among what appeared to be the start of a great city on an Azeroth controlled by the Horde. It was perfect, each detail exactly as he remembered. Reaching a hand forward to touch his old master, Nobu'tan suppressed a cry of despair when he met solid glass.

The longing grew painful to return to the place that he called home, where he felt comfortable and understood what was going on. Hope that he would find a clue here as to how he might get back to Azeroth started to dwindle as he forlornly gazed at that which he desired most.

"So," a voice said behind him, causing Nobu'tan to jump, and distracting him from the mirror's reflection. Whirling, he spotted Dumbledore, and a small amount of panic rose in his chest. What had the man seen? "You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised…" the old man said, casually walking into the room as though he had done this dozens of times.

Nobu'tan attempted to shift himself to block whatever the mirror may have been continuing to show from Dumbledore's view. The last thing he wanted was the man to know his secret wish of escaping back to Azeroth, or the nature of Gul'dan and the magic that he had taught Nobu'tan.


	12. C11: Truth and Lies

**Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming! ~F**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 **Truth and Lies**

Nobu'tan felt like the seconds dragged on for days as he stared at the Headmaster, his back to the reflective surface of the Mirror of Erised, trying to prevent the old man from seeing what he himself had seen within, the faces and identities of Nobu'tan's most important people, and the world that he desperately wanted to return to.

"Well, with just one visit to this mirror, I presume you could guess at what it does?" Dumbledore said, casually walking around to sit in an unused and dusty chair, cleaning it with a flick of his wand.

"I suppose," Nobu'tan began slowly, "that it shows us what we want most of all…"

"Precisely, Harry, precisely." The Headmaster said, clearly pleased that Nobu'tan figured it out in one attempt. "The mirror shows us, nothing more or less, than the deepest and most desperate desire of our hearts. A man that was completely content with his life would alone be able to use the mirror as a normal mirror, reflecting his life just as it was. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Many have wasted away in from of it, wishing for what they see within it, or worse, driven mad. This is why the mirror will shortly be moved to a new home. I trust that you understand the need to not go seeking for it. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that."

The old man seemed to be stalling for something, and slowly Nobu'tan began to realize, that the man couldn't see what Nobu'tan saw in this mirror, as it wouldn't be Dumbledore's deepest desire. So the old wizard was trying to trick Nobu'tan into sharing what he saw, into actually telling the old man what he wanted to know. Not likely to happen.

"I understand, sir," he said instead, stepping away from the mirror, and giving it one last look. Gul'dan's red eyes gleamed in the reflected scene, reassuring in their intensity. Nobu'tan swore to himself that he would see that face, and those eyes again, even if he had to burn this and many other worlds to do it. Nothing was more important to him.

"I should probably get going, need to prepare for when classes resume," Nobu'tan said, excusing himself from the old man's presence, and sensing the slight change in the Headmaster's aura, revealing the disappointment that the old man felt in failing his desire to get secrets out of the young warlock.

With his route to the library cut off, Nobu'tan had little option left but to return to the nearly deserted common room. He sat there, in front of the large fireplace, idly playing with the small infernal stone in his hand, wondering about the meaning of all of this. What could the 'Standing Stones,' possibly be. The only way he could contact the masters of the Burning Legion was either through a representative, such as an imp messenger or some being higher up in the ranks, a nathrezim or even an eredar possibly, or else a demon gate had to be used to speak to one of the great lords directly.

But what could they want with him, a small, scrawny human warlock that had little training on his own. Checking the personal Ravenclaw library, really more of a bookshelf with leftovers from old students that were long gone, Nobu'tan found a magical atlas of Europe. Hoping that some reference to these stones wouldn't be farther out of his way than the rest of the British isle, he carefully scanned the important magical landmarks for something that fit the description.

Curiously, he was able to trace several of the known ley lines around major stone structures that baffled muggles, and many wizards, for centuries. Many ancient druidic stone circles among them, such as The Hurlers, Mên-an-Tol and Doll Tor were situated atop one or two lines, but by and large the one that stood out the most was the apparently famous Stonehenge, with four lines running under it, rivaling Hogwarts castle itself.

Yes, Nobu'tan thought to himself, that location had to be what was mentioned in his message, there was no other section of standing stones that was nearly powerful enough magically and located close enough for him to attempt to access. The only problem was just that, getting access to the stones to use their magic. He would naturally have to wait until the summer, and then it depended on where and to whom he was sent.

Nobu'tan couldn't imagine Dumbledore wanting him to be too far out of reach, and less likely was that he'd go with any of the people that he had befriended. He would have to get himself up to Wiltshire to see the stone circle and back, hopefully with more instruction and assistance from the Legion for it, all before the old man noticed that he had left wherever he had been placed.

It still left many questions unanswered, but Nobu'tan contented himself to wait for the right opportunity to ask whatever demon had summoned him in person. Until then there was much he could do, like prepare to start training new mages and warlocks in secret, while still pretending that any of the classes they had here were any sort of challenge for him.

Well before the winter holidays he had grown extremely bored with the coursework, having already had plenty of time to leap ahead and finish all the first year books and practice the spells within. Potions were something that still interested him, but the class was somewhat strained with Snape being as he was with the students, Nobu'tan in particular.

Thankfully, there seemed to be enough of a similarity between this world and Azeroth that Nobu'tan was able to find a decent selection of herbs and other plant components that he was familiar with, ordering things by owl from various apothecaries to restart his hobby of inscription. Materials for his enchanting were harder to come by, but thankfully he could create some of the things he needed for inscription with the right amount of parchment and herbs.

With time to kill, he pulled out the kit he had put together, comprised of a small magical trunk he also ordered from Diagon, into its many expanded compartments he had placed massive quantities of simple herbs, Silverleaf, Peacebloom, and Earthroot, all of which he had had to recognize by sight and odor because of their different names on this world.

Still, he had enough of a supply to create the most basic of inks, under the light of the moon, which would cause the vials to glow with a low silvery light. It was fulfilling work, grinding the various herbs together into a pure white pigment, before setting portions in each vial that he had ready, about twenty in all, over a low fire to boil as the sun started to set. Placing each nearest to a window facing where the moon was going to rise, Nobu'tan watched as the flames broke down the crushed plant parts and pulled the liquid to the top of each vial, to be met with the light of the rising moon.

Injecting a small amount of his personal magic into each vial, the orc raised human hummed with delight as the newly made ink started to shine with the silver light it was absorbing, almost ready to be siphoned away from the fleshy remains of the planet they were being extracted from. Looking down at his wand, which he had placed to the side as he began, Nobu'tan wondered if he could use wizard magic to speed up the process, or at least the transferring of the ink to fresh bottles, as it was the most tedious and dirty part of the task. Setting up the new clean vials, roughly ten that were to be filled, Nobu'tan snapped up the wand, running through possible spells in his mind.

A few flicks to pop the corks of the twenty filled vials, and a swish to kill the flames beneath so they didn't boil over, a whispered ' _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,' sent the twenty vials floating over their new containers, carefully pouring through a strainer to fill the other ten with pure silvery ink, while keeping the coarse remnants of the original herbs out to be discarded.

Within moments he had finished work that usually took an hour to complete, and Nobu'tan had ten vials of Moonglow Ink, ready for a quill to put it to parchment and magic to empower it. A good start, but he would need much more in the long run, but his current supply of herbs was already growing depleted. He would have to order more over the summer to prepare, depending on where he went.

Still, as he packed away his tools and supplies, cleaning them with a wave of his wand as he went, Nobu'tan smiled at the silvery ink that sat in the window, soaking in as much moonlight as he could get them to before stowing them safely in his inscription trunk. It wouldn't do for just anyone to find and use these, especially with what Nobu'tan had planned to use them for already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione returned to Hogwarts the day before Christmas break ended, along with many of the other students. Much to her pleasure the library was all but abandoned for her to immediately set to work, pulling out books that had more background on the assignments and lessons that had just been working on before the break, to refresh herself on where they were and what was likely to come up in lessons next. It always paid to be slightly ahead.

It also didn't hurt to be in the one place that she was most likely to spot the reclusive and shy creature known as Harry Potter. The boy hadn't come down yet to mingle with the returning students, so Hermione had presumed that he was off doing some project or another, like the typical Ravenclaw, and she was sad to confess that she was surprised to not find him in the library immediately when she arrived.

But as she set her things down and started to peruse the books, the door opened again, and she smiled as the black haired Ravenclaw nodded to Madam Pince and walked down a seemingly random shelf of books.

Almost as though drawn to each other, they both reappeared with their chosen texts and sat at the same table where Hermione had placed her bag without a word. "Hello Harry," Hermione said after a few moments of arranging her things to all be within reach should she need them.

"Hello Hermione…" Harry replied, stuttering only slightly but with a fair amount of confidence.

Hermione wondered again at the strangeness of Harry's sporadic speaking ability, when the answer dawned on her like a brick to the head. "You English is coming along quite nicely, isn't it?" she asked casually, as though it wasn't that big of a deal.

Harry blinked at her, probably surprised as how swiftly she had guessed. "It's difficult," he said slowly, gaining momentum as he spoke, "the charm helps a lot with learning the words, but getting my own mouth to say them is still hard. I know what I want to say, but it's still foreign to move my tongue to make the sounds."

Hermione smiled, "You'll get it eventually, and I daresay only a sparse few would even notice in a few months."

"Thank you," Harry replied, genuinely smiling at her kindness.

"Well, now that I've found you, after I've reviewed some of the coursework, would you like to talk a walk through the castle?" Hermione asked, hinting at something slightly more. Harry seemed to understand exactly what she wanted to discuss, and assisted her in briefly going over each class, what they had last learned about, and how it would apply to their upcoming lessons in their various text books.

Still, it took roughly twenty or so minutes for them to touch on every class, and it was nearing lunch when they set off to wander the corridors of the castle. They took a meandering course, intentionally dodging around the grand staircase so it took longer, and slowly they started down the castle toward the Great Hall. "So," Harry started as they went, "I take it you want to begin studying the Arcane as quickly as possible, then?"

Hermione smiled widely, glad that the boy had chosen to go straight to the heart of the matter, "If it's not too much of a distraction from you other work and projects and whatever else you're up to," she replied, unable to wipe the grin from her face at the thought of learning an entirely different form of magic.

"No, it wouldn't be too difficult to make time for your lessons, in fact I had been thinking up way to teach the basics to others for the entirety of the break, as I can imagine in due time others will want to learn about the Arcane if it became more common knowledge again." Harry said, looking hopeful.

"Oh, you should talk to the Headmaster about that, maybe he'd want one of the Professors to learn it, or knows others that do…" Hermione started, but the look of irritation that flashed across Harry's face at the mention of Professor Dumbledore silenced her thought.

"I've… discussed it with the Headmaster," Harry started slowly, "and he wants to learn as much about the Arcane as possible, but the relationship between us is strained… that's all I want to say regarding it. In essence, yes, your thought is already in motion, but not necessarily the way that I would desire it to be done."

"Oh," Hermione said, not fully understanding what Harry meant. It was clear he was leaving several things out, but out of respect for his privacy, especially about a matter between him and Professor Dumbledore, Hermione chose not to push. "Alright, well if the Headmaster is learning it, then I doubt there's too much worry if I learned it as well."

"No, perhaps not," Harry said, smiling, "If you'd like we can start after lunch, I know a place on the seventh floor that will give us the privacy required to get a fresh start on things."

Hermione beamed at him as they reached the entrance hall, and couldn't stop smiling all the way through lunch, even if Ron Weasley was annoyingly commenting on her happiness in a rude and completely disgusting manner, occasionally spraying some of the massive amounts of food he was shoveling into his face onto the table as he spoke through a full mouth.

She ignored him however, her thoughts racing on what she should expect from her upcoming lesson from Harry, and this as of yet unknown place on the seventh floor. Since Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers were location off that floor, she assumed that Harry must have found it while walking to or from classes, but wondered why she hadn't noticed such a place as well.

Still, she restrained herself to making sure she had a full and well rounded meal before turning to make certain that Harry was also finished. The boy stood and glanced once at the Head Table, where only about half the Professors were present, before starting for the door. Hermione caught up to him quickly, her enthusiasm possibly aiding her speed.

This time they took the direct route all the way to the top floor, and walked swiftly to the corridor that Hermione knew was only a short distance away from the Gryffindor common room. Abruptly Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor; next to a tapestry of a daft wizard attempting to train trolls how to dance ballet.

The boy was staring at the opposite wall, deep in concentration, and for a moment Hermione hadn't a clue what he thought he was doing, until an unassuming door appeared in the far wall, as though melting out of the stone. Smiling to himself, Harry approached and pulled the simply handle outward, revealing a large room beyond.

As Hermione entered, she marveled at the dimensions of the room, and wondered how it was possible for a room this size to be so high up in the castle, "I love magic…" she breathed, figuring that that was the only explanation to the absurd physics of the room's proportions and placement.

"Indeed," Harry agreed, standing next to a chalkboard with a handful of seats in front of it. "Before we begin in full there are a few details you need to be aware of. These will help you accept the fundamental differences between wand based magic and the Arcane."

Drawing his wand, he tapped the chalkboard once, and several pieces of colored chalk floated up and began to draw as he spoke, "The wizards, with their wand magic, have learned to pull magical energy from within themselves, drawing on the core of a living being to channel their powers, this is why so many things, like an individual's wand are so important and tailors iteself for that person. It's all extremely dependant on the individual, and the same spell will be slightly different depending on the person casting it. Certainly it will have the same function, look and feel and for all intents and purposes be the same, but the signature of magic will differ. This is why the Ministry is able to so easily find wizards who perform magic in muggle areas, as their personal signature is on every spell they perform."

Hermione nodded, understanding the concept, even as the chalk behind Harry drew a rather detailed figure, with a bubble-like aura around them in multiple colors, all focusing through a wand in the figure's hand.

"Now, the ways of Arcane magic are drastically different in this regard, as the magic does not originate from the individual casting the magic, at least not completely." Harry continued, as the chalk drew another figure, hand raised and a small aura around them.

"No, the Arcane is based on a principle of where you are in relation to the magic of the world around you," Harry explained, and the chalk drew a large rock beside the second figure, with a large aura around the grey drawing.

"Is that something related to how Hogwarts has so much ambient magic around it?" Hermione asked intelligently.

"Intimately," Harry answered, "Hogwarts was built over four different lines of pure magic that run through the planet's core. The whole planet is fed by hundreds these lines, so you can imagine the immense amount of power they contain. The Arcane works directly off these lines, or another powerful outside source of magic, and draws it through the magic user like a funnel."

The chalk flew across the board, drawing lines of magic coming from the stone and into the figure's hand.

"Of course, like all magic, there's a drawback," Harry continued, "even as wand magic can tire you out and eventually leave you comatose if you overuse it, the Arcane can burn you out from the inside if you try to force too much of it through your body all at once. In addition, if there simply isn't enough ambient magic around, it will produce weak, if any, results. To counteract this, many Arcane wielders would work together in rituals for larger or more complicated spells, and try their hardest to gather where places of extreme magic lay hidden."

"It sounds like your describing the druids from before the Roman era," Hermione said suddenly, "it was part of some of our first History of Magic lessons, the druids would gather at places where they built stone circles and practice their arts there, creating powerful spells that lasted for ages, a shame that the Romans and other peoples drove them out and killed many, if not all, of the druids. It's said that Merlin was one of the last to hold on to their magical knowledge and practice it, but even he has vanished."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Harry said honestly, "in my studies of the magical layout of this world, there are many lines that run through all the druidic stone circles, as well as other specific locations, but the strangest thing is that other than those this world is rather magic deficient. It's as if there was some great catastrophe that drained a massive amount of magic from the world, but I couldn't say for sure."

They were both silent for a moment, wondering at the prospects, "But enough of the history lesson," Harry said after a moment, setting down his wand and moving to a larger open area in the middle of the room, "A practical demonstration I presume will be in order. There are three main branches of Arcane styled magic, confusingly enough one is also called Arcane, and deals with pure magic, while the other two are elemental in nature and work with fire or ice respectively."

He paused for a moment, and out of the floor by the far wall raised several statues in the shape of indistinct figures, targets most likely. "I was predominantly taught combat magic regarding the Arcane, but each branch was well represented. Observe."

Harry raised both hands, and for a moment seemed to just inhale deeply, causing a purple glow to envelope each of his hands. Throwing them both outward, palms toward his target, the far left statue, a small concussive ripple appeared in the air, and the area around the statue blasted with the same purple lights, causing damage to the statue. Harry repeated the process twice more, causing substantially more damage with each subsequent attack, before cupping both hands around each other and throwing them forward, launching a spiral of purple Arcane energy at the same statue, blasting it apart as the magical attack struck.

"Arcane-based attacks build as the caster establishes an active draw on the source they are using, growing stronger as they continue to cast, and that draw can be severed in the midst of an attack, allowing the backlash to be thrown as an additional attack." Harry explained, before turning to the rightmost statue.

This time, flames engulfed his hands, seeming to burn but without any pain to the black haired boy, and he started launching balls of fire in various sized at the statue, charring the stone and setting small patches alight as some oily substance was left from the attacks. Concentrating hard, Harry conjured a molten boulder and hurled it with all his might, knocking the head of the statue clean off the body and toppling the entire thing.

"Fire, as the name suggests, deals with the properties of flame, setting opponents alight and causing high amounts of pain; effective, but also potentially dangerous if you're in the wrong location." Harry commented.

Looking at the final, central statue, ice started to grow between Harry's fingers as he concentrated once more, before sending a volley of icicles flying at the statue, causing the freezing air to start congealing around the base of the statue, several larger balls of snow and ice were formed, almost effortlessly, and hurled with extreme precision to cause the ice to rise higher on the statue. Finally a crack started to form on the rapidly freezing statue, and a well placed icicle cause the entire block of stone to shatter into tiny pieces.

"Frost focuses on the finer details, hindering mobility and potentially freezing the opponent in their tracks, giving the caster time to look for weaknesses and flaws to exploit with a well timed strike." Harry said, allowing the magic to drain away from him, "I don't expect you to get to the same level I am at all at once, naturally, but these are samples of abilities you can yet learn to produce and to give you a direction to think about. Specialty in one of the branches over the others is very common, and don't feel badly when one of the three performs poorly to your commands."

Hermione nodded, excited to take the first steps into embracing this new and fascinating magic. She was still a touch disappointed that she wouldn't be producing such feats immediately, but obeyed when Harry instructed her to sit upon the stone floor and close her eyes.

"I know this may be difficult, but you need to quiet the storm of your brilliant mind Hermione," he said calmly, "you need to be still and wait to feel the movement of the magic around you in the castle, feel the pulse of the land beneath us, and beyond it the literal heartbeat of the planet."

For a long time Hermione just sat there, unsure what she was supposed to be keeping a lookout for, and having a hard time stopping random thoughts from fluttering through her mind. Shutting them down wasn't really working, as then she was focusing on each one.

"Don't try to clamp down and force thoughts from your mind," Harry instructed, obvious seeing the problems she was having, "but just watch the thought float by, don't question it but don't act upon it either, just let it drift by."

Hermione nodded, immediately trying the tactic on her next several thoughts. It was hard to just ignore the thought, but every so slowly she was able to embrace the silence and felt her body relax. That's when she started to feel something. Deep below her, there was a faint something, like a flash of light from a deep chasm, sparkling and pulsing like her own heart in her chest.

"I see it," she said calmly, focusing intently on the pulsing power.

"Good, now wait for it to come to you, let it connect and pass through you. It might be slightly painful at first, but you will not be harmed.

Hermione was already stretching mentally toward the light, wanting to feel the warmth that she thought it would represent. Surprisingly faster than she expected, the light rocketed up to her call, as thought the castle wanted nothing more than to make the connection. But the light was not warm; it was frigid and sent shivers through her as it passed into her body. There was a magnificent burst of insight, and for a fraction of a second she could sense everything in and around the castle and its grounds. It was glorious, but gone all too soon, and Hermione found herself on the floor of the seventh floor, panting with the strain of what she had just experienced.

"Congratulations are in order I think," Harry said, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet when she accepted, "You are a Mage now, in addition to a witch. Describe the sensation, don't leave out any detail, it will be useful to me in determining what specialization you may be leaning toward."

"It was cold, and then I had a massive burst of awareness," Hermione said, explaining it as best as she could, but it was hard to describe feelings like that. Harry was patient and listened intently, muttering softly to himself as she struggled her way through it.

"I think I know what ones you are suited for, but we'll still go through the basics to attune you to the new magic you've formed a connection to." Harry explained, and Hermione checked the time casually, widening her eyes when she realized that it had been several hours and was almost time for dinner.

"I have to admit, I was surprised how quickly you made the connection," Harry said, smiling slightly, "I believe the castle hasn't had many Mages in its walls in recent years."

"It felt desperate," Hermione said, "Almost as thought it wanted to make the connection with me as much as I did." To which Harry nodded.

"It would make sense, if these druids were the only Mages in Britain in centuries, the magic of the earth would be growing and waiting for the right person to reach for it." Harry fell quiet as they took their leave of the room, which disappeared as they exited.

"Well, all that you expected?" Harry said, smiling again as they made their way to the stairs back down to the Great Hall.

"Absolutely not," Hermione replied, laughing.

"Yeah, me neither when I first learned," Harry agreed, laughing at some memory, "My mentor was so pleased when I made the connection, granted he may have been impressed when I did it within one hour of practice, with no previous magical training."

Hermione looked at him confused. She knew that the boy had been considered missing for the ten years since his family was attacked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but Harry had never willingly talked about where he was or who he was with before.

"What was your mentor like?" she asked, wanting more information but respecting that perhaps the boy wanted to keep the man's identify to himself for whatever reason.

"Powerful," Harry replied, growing wistful, "and extremely cunning, much like how people describe this Salazar Slytherin, I think. When angered he could do so many great and terrible things to those that offended him or threatened those he cared about, which were few and far between to be true, but still. I love him with all my heart, because he took me in when no one else would have."

Hermione smiled for Harry, it was good to hear that even if he didn't live with his own family, at least the boy had had someone who cared fiercely for him. It was almost sad when they arrived in the Great Hall, and Hermione could see the walls go up again over Harry's emotions. He nodded softly to her before departing for the Ravenclaw Table, and Hermione sighed as she headed for the mass of red and gold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus, despite everything that occurred on Halloween with the troll and his hatred of James Potter none the less, couldn't help but start to find himself appreciating the presence of Harry Potter in his classes. Despite being the Marauder's spawn, Potter had a good head on his shoulders, and quickly grasped the finer points of Potions making. Despite the boy being Ravenclaw, Severus was tempted to give the boy special lessons to nurture his talent, but he had yet to pass the idea past the Headmaster, mostly because the old man would probably turn it into a spying mission, and Severus would hate it all the more.

Truth be told, he had expected far more of James Potter to be shining through the boy, irritating Severus to no end, but clearly whoever had raised the boy had not tolerated such behavior, and Lily's brilliance had been given room to grow. While he may never like the child, purely on principle, he could at least respect that he was indeed the last living memory of Lily Evans on earth.

However, before he could even have the chance of that, he had to sit with the other Heads of House and watch the Gryffindor play Quidditch against Hufflepuff. It started as a rather usual game, each team favoring their chasers over beaters or seekers, although the Weasley twins were clearly dominating the iron cannon balls of destruction.

Even still, Quidditch wasn't the most entertaining thing for Severus, and occasionally his attention would drift across the stands, checking on the students, Slytherins primarily. Over and across the sea of black he could easily pinpoint the green and silver, nestled next to the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw house.

Spotting the blond hair of Draco Malfoy, Severus could only guess that Lucius' child was even now his with constant companion, Theodore Nott. It was only because he was looking in the direction that he spotted when not one, but both bludgers abruptly altered their courses and sped at the Slytherin stands.

As soon as the screams started, Severus was already on the move. Flying across to the stands as fast as his feet could carry him, Severus worried for the safety of the students, and his heart nearly exploded when he got to the top of the Ravenclaw stands. Shoving a pair of seventh years aside who were ushering the younger students away, Severus revealed Harry Potter as the boy continually dove for cover as the pair of bludgers assaulted him.

His wand slapped into his hand, but Severus couldn't get a fix on either of the iron balls as they caused massive damage to the wooden stands. Potter threw up his hands, and a concussive blasts of flames erupted upward, rupturing the Bludgers and setting flame to the stands around him. The display of magic was astounding, if not for the blatant taint mixed in with the fire.

Severus had never seen such a powerful control over what amounted to fiendfyre, but that was hardly something to be commended about. The only forgiving aspect was that it seemed that Potter had only used the cursed fire as a natural reaction to defend himself, but Albus wouldn't see it that way. Striding through the flames quickly, Severus seized the boy and brought him from the stands, getting him away from whoever had jinxed the iron spheres to attack him.

The Potions Master had a fairly good guess who specifically was behind the attack, but he duty was to protect the boy first and foremost, even from himself. Ignoring the concerns of the students, even the burning of the stands as they left, Severus led the boy roughly back to the castle, ignoring the boy's angry protests and struggling.

"Settle down Potter," Severus snapped, resisting the urge to simply smack the boy so he would be still. "Someone just tried very hard to serious injure or kill you, the only safe place for the moment is with the Headmaster, whether you like it or not."

The boy glared, but stopped fighting as they strode the rest of the way to the Headmaster's office, bypassing the gargoyle with a sneer, as Severus was coded in because he refused to utter the ridicules passwords that the old man came up with.

"Ah, Severus, Harry, I saw the blast at the stadium from here, care to share the details." Albus didn't appear angered, but Severus knew better. The man logically presumed that Potter had caused something to do with this mess.

"I shall be frank and brief Headmaster. The one we discussed I believe has attempted to harm Potter, jinxing the bludgers at the match to attack him. Before I or anyone else could rescue the boy however, he had used dark magic to conjure what I can only presume to be fiendfyre to melt the bludgers attacking him."

Dumbledore was quite for a long moment, before quietly he withdrew a book from his desk, flipping through to a specific page. "I take that you tapped into the Arcane to protect yourself, didn't you Harry." he said, and the boy's noncommittal response told them that that had been exactly what had taken place.

"Well, the main question that I have is if, as this book supplies that the magic you've describe is based off the very heart of our world, how do you explain the dark taint that Severus describes?" Albus said, giving Potter a piercing stare, but the boy still stubbornly refused to respond.

"Harry, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to use Dark Magic of any sort in Hogwarts, less so if it's a version we do not as of yet understand, so unless you explain yourself and answer our questions, I'll have to take drastic measure to protect the other students." The Headmaster said sternly.

Facing such an ultimatum, Severus wasn't surprised that the boy backed down. With a glare at the Headmaster he took a seat in front of the desk and waited. "There were some quite dark times while I was gone then…" he said calmly, "because the magic I used was perfectly acceptable where I came from, so forgive me for not understanding why you and your people frown so much on a perfectly controlled burst of fire…"

"It's not so much the spell itself," Albus explained calmly, and Severus could see that he wanted to keep Potter talking as long as he could. "It's just the aspect of it that Severus could easily detect that so easily resembled the cursed fiendfyre that burns without control."

"Well, no offense to Professor Snape," Potter replied, "but just because two things seem similar does not mean they are related. I'm sure if you went to check the stands would be just fine now, aside from the damage those iron balls caused. I certainly have no desire to visit one of those matches ever again, by the way."

"I couldn't blame you for that," Severus said, smirking slightly at the memory of the bludgers speeding at Potter with a driven purpose.

"I can accept that perhaps we are hasty in immediately comparing the fire you produced to fiendfyre, but surely you can understand our concern, as we are severely handicapped in understanding just what it is you are doing, this power of the Arcane as you call it." gesturing at his book Albus continued, "I've only been able to learn small tokens about it through this, as most of the great books regarding that version of magic have been lost for well over a thousand years, along with the last known practitioner."

Albus looked imploring at the boy, and Severus knew that he secretly was hoping for some sign that the great Merlin was still active in the world. Potter gave no reaction to the statement however, just continued waiting for the next question.

"Who taught you this power," Dumbledore finally asked with a sigh, and Severus could see the beginnings of tired frustration in the old man's eyes. He had a remarkably long fuse, but Potter was quickly finding the end of it in the few months he had been at Hogwarts.

"Several people, but it wouldn't matter if it told you their names; you could never meet them…" Potter replied cryptically. Severus could easily tell that the one thing the boy was hiding were those names, even if he couldn't sense a lie in what Potter had said.

"And why couldn't we meet them?" Albus asked, not wanting to push the argument that had already been waged multiple times regarding the names.

"They are too far away for you to contact with any method of wizarding travel or communication that are presently created." Potter replied, closing his eyes. Severus was almost willing to go and get a vial of Veritaserum if Albus asked for it by this point. He was quite tired of the half truths and partial answers that the boy was carefully giving, and just three drops would break that iron will and give them the answers that the old man wanted so badly.

Unfortunately, he also knew that Albus would never condone its use unless immediately safety of another was threatened, and less willing to use it on a child, regardless of how powerful Potter seemed to be.

"Is this why you are trying to create a new and more powerful form of travel?" Albus wisely asked.

Potter sneered, but answered, "Yes."

"I see," Albus said, clearly not wanting to stop, but light was beginning to fade, and there were classes the following morning and appearances for them all to keep up. "Then I will allow you to go for now, but I want you to be careful. You used your magic to defend yourself, this is true, but the fact that you had to do so at an innocent game of Quidditch is very important Harry. Be cautious of those you are around, be they adults or students, we care about your safety as much as any others."

"I already do, Sir." Potter replied, the backhanded comment not missing its mark. Neither Professor reacted however, as it was a fair point.

"Alright then, of you trot, to bed please, and no detours." Albus said, allowing the boy to leave.

Once the door closed Severus turned to him, "What do you make of the boy Severus, outside of his attitude and strange powers." The Headmaster asked honestly.

"I'd say he's actually a rather pleasant person, with a sharp mind and clear attention to detail. Until this event I was debating asking for permission to give him private advanced potions lessons." Severus answered with equal honestly.

"And coming from you that speaks great volumes of respect for his proficiency with the subject, for you to overlook his parentage." Albus guessed, "I will allow it, but you know what I will ask of you. Try to convince him to confide in you, although I doubt it will happen, at least its several more hours a week that the boy will be watched. I am just so far out of depth with his abilities, and too busy to properly examine his limits, not that I expect Harry will be too willing to share them with me."

"Not that I condone his behavior toward you," Severus added, "but it is hard to not have expected this sort of reaction, when he was basically dropped headfirst into our world, and suddenly scooped up and smuggled away here without a choice in the matter, and for all intents and purposes held here against his will. He is dangerous, yes, but we are also keeping him all but a prisoner."

Albus nodded, "I understand this, hopefully the summer holiday will give him the chance to explore this and the muggle world at his own pace, and we can invite him to come back next year and hope for the best, although I don't like that we need to let him have too much freedom so soon, who knows what sort of mischief he could get up to, let alone disappear again on us."


	13. C12: Encircling Plots

**Thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapters, your thoughts are always appreciated. On with the story, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **Encircling Plots**

Draco couldn't help worrying about Harry Potter the entire night. Professor Snape had dragged the boy away from the Quidditch game so fast, and neither he nor anyone had seen the other boy again, even after checking the Hospital Wing for him. From what he had been told with Theodore during Yule, Draco could guess that the boy had used his inherent powers to defend himself from the Bludgers, but why had he been so quickly removed, unless it was merely for his own safety.

The next day, both first year Slytherins rose extra early and bolted for the Great Hall, hoping to see the Ravenclaw there just before breakfast started. Luckily for them, it seemed that the blue and bronze clad boy was set in his ways of rising earlier than the majority of the school, as he was once of the very few people actually in the Hall, long before food was even set out on the long House Tables.

"So, what happened?" Draco demanded as he and Theo sat on either side of Harry, startling the boy out of the book he was engrossed in, "after the match, where were you?"

Harry paused for a moment, seeming to digest some of the words that Draco had said, before replying, strangely halted in his words from time to time, "Professor Snape took me to Dumbledore, for my protection…" there was sarcasm or disgust in his voice as he said it, "then they decided to question whether I had the right to defend myself with my gifts, like it was evil or something…"

"It seemed like perfectly normal fire magic to me…" Theodore said, more to himself than Harry or Draco.

"And it was, like I tried to explain to them, well, there may have been a hint of the void in it, but that's not even remotely the point, they tried to make it out that I was at fault for defending myself just as much as whoever attacked me, which they didn't bother to mention in my presence naturally…"

"I've decided," Theo said abruptly, catching the pair of them off guard, "I want to learn this magic, to defend myself and others…"

Harry stared at the other boy for a long moment after his announcement. Draco looked also, seeing his best friend in an entirely new light. Theodore had never truly struck him as the decisive 'go getter' type; he had always been the more academic of them both, so this was a surprise to see some spine finally showing in the weedy boy.

"So be it," Harry responded, just as the food appeared in front of them, "stay, we'll go get started right after breakfast."

"But, are we allowed to sit at another House table?" Draco asked, confused. There wasn't any Professor in the hall yet, so technically they could do as they wished, but it seemed like something that simply wasn't done.

"I think we can move past House divisions for one morning, if not longer, but if it bothers you so I could join you at your table…" Harry said, but that would have been even worse. The majority of Slytherin seemed to at least mildly dislike Harry on principle, "No, no, we can stay, especially if it's a quick breakfast." Draco assured their mutual friend.

"Good," harry said, smiling slightly, "could you pass that over, I don't know the name of it, but it's really good…" he added, pointing at a platter of kippers, and Draco reached for it obediently. It seemed to really highlight the fact that Harry hadn't been anywhere near Europe his entire life, if he didn't know standard things like food items.

Draco half watched the boy as they ate quickly, and he was surprised at how it appeared that everything seemed so new to him. He hid it well, but the boy barely knew how to use his utensils, mostly mirroring what the others were doing, but he picked it up quickly enough. The signs were there however, and Draco thought it may be prudent in due time to ask his father what magical communities were in the world that Harry could have been hiding in that had such lacking in common etiquette.

Soon enough they were finished, just as other students and teachers started to trickle in. They got a few curious looks, but otherwise no one commented at the two Slytherins sitting with a Ravenclaw, and they got up to leave soon after, so nothing came of it. Harry led the two boys up the stairs, past a group of Ravenclaws that were heading down, who called out and waved to Harry as they passed.

The group of Gryffindors that trooped past afterward was ignored, not that many of them cared about others in their haste to get down to eat. By the time they reached the intended floor, all the way at the top of the castle, Draco and Theodore wondered where they were actually going. They had never had reason to come to the seventh floor of the castle before, as there were no classrooms up here, but it seemed that Harry had visited often, as he took them directly to a specific location in a corridor opposite a very ugly tapestry, and made a door appear out of the wall.

Entering quickly, Harry looked back at Draco and Theodore, who were both trying to figure out just what he had done to make the door appear, "Coming?" he said, smirking as they started before stepping forward to enter.

The room was dark, but as they entered and the door shut torches and candle flared to life all around, making strange symbols and glyphs all across the walls and ceiling. It looked like the same things that Draco had read occasionally in the marginally dark that his father allowed him to read.

"You will need to understand, first and most importantly, that this magic is quite unlike anything taught here in this school," Harry prefaced, turning to look at them through the gloomy light.

"You will be frustrated when it doesn't perform as well as you'd like, and it will take practice, much practice before your ready for even the most basic of abilities. This magic is legitimately dangerous, far more than anything you've ever witnessed or experienced. One mistake could have you dead… or worse…" he added ominously.

Draco swallowed nervously, understanding the deathly seriousness which Harry had said that, and as he outlined several important guidelines for their sessions. If indeed they would be using such powerful and potentially fatal magic, it would make sense for so many rules to be in place. At the very least of the worries was Dumbledore or one of the teachers finding out and getting them expelled for practicing what could be construed as Dark Arts.

Both Slytherin boys agreed to the term that Harry set forth, and gave him magical oaths that they would keep secret anything he taught them, unless it was a life or death emergency. "Well now, with that taken care of, I suppose we can begin with getting you both to be able to touch the Void." He said at last, gesturing to an open spot on the stone floor for the three of them to sit, in the middle of a ring of candles and strange runes that were painted in various patterns.

Harry quickly went about explaining how the magic of the Void differed from the standard Hogwarts curriculum, and how instead of pulling the magic from their cores, they reached outward to the Twisted Nether and channeled energy from there do power their abilities.

When the pair of Slytherins grasped the idea of the magic, Harry conjured steaming goblets in front of each of them, pungent aroma waft up into their faces. "Close your eyes and relax, breathing in the fumes," Harry instructed, "let go of all idle thoughts and watch them slip past you."

Having studied the basics of Occlumency from his father, Draco knew the concept of meditation quite well, although Harry's coaching was quite helpful. As he cleared his mind, there came to Draco's notice a pulsating power deep below them both, like a heartbeat of the castle they lived inside, but even that he allowed to pass by, as that was not what he was supposed to be searching for.

"Good," Harry said softly, to not break their concentration, "now I will start utilizing the powers of the Void, and you will sense it, when you do, follow the magic back to its source, become familiar with it, and connect it to yourself, allowing it to be placed deep in your core."

Whatever it was that Harry did next, it sent shivers up Draco's spine, and he heard Theodore give a small gasp of surprise. The magic that he could feel coming off Harry, not even a few feet from him, was tantalizingly dark, with an icy edge to it that made Draco want to shrink away, but instead he did as he was instructed, reaching out with his magic and senses and grasping a hold of the tendrils of power that rolled off the other boy, tracing them back through the open air, and hesitating as the dark power started to grab him back, dragging his subconscious probes and pulling them toward what he could only describe as an invisible portal.

It was somewhat frightening, but with Harry's encouragement, Draco felt his confidence rise and he pushed, finding himself surrounded by overwhelming warmth. He knew that if he opened his eyes now, that he would lose his chance and have to start all over again, so quickly Draco started to pull at the mysterious sensation that he had found, dragging it back to the real world, and internalizing it into himself.

The magic of the Void sang as it came into contact with his core, it eagerly formed the powerful bond with him, as though waiting for such an offer of power. The quickness of the connection was so much that it jolted Draco into opening his eyes, and suddenly he saw places that were far away from the castle he knew that he was still in.

A lush green world swam in his mind's eye, before extraordinary creatures of malice and hatred appeared, destroying and burning everything as they passed. Knowledge came to him regarding these demonic beings, and the title of them rose to the surface of his mind. The Burning Legion.

Looking over at Harry, Draco understood much more than the boy had let on before. The powers that he had expressly shown them, their origins, and the overwhelming goal and responsibility that came with it. The sheer power that the Ravenclaw wielded, that he and Theodore would wield, and the obligations that came with it, it could consume them if they weren't careful.

"Such overwhelming power," Theodore said aloud, breaking the almost serene silence that had pervaded the room while they had been meditating.

"Yes," Harry agreed, "and you've both taken the first important steps to embracing that same power for yourselves. The Legion is very rewarding to their loyal supporters."

Draco however, did have a single doubt, "But do we really want them to come and set our world, our home to the flame so quickly?"

Harry smiled toothily, "There are more worlds out there, better places where magic runs in the very air, that would easily be better homes to us than this world. Once I devise how to construct another Dark Portal, we will leave this place, and perhaps I will finally be able to reunite with those that raised and trained me."

Draco and Theodore paused, finally realizing the answer to some of the school's many questions. Harry Potter had not been hidden away somewhere in Europe or the Americas after the fall of Voldemort, he had been taken from their planet altogether, raised in a place where magic was life, and learning these wondrous powers as common knowledge.

It made the pair of Slytherins giddy to realize that they would be first in line to also learn these powers if they managed to assist Harry in returning to the world of his chosen home. "There is still Dumbledore to worry about," Theodore said, bringing a hush to the thoughts of power and prestige.

"Yes, but allow me to worry about the nosy Headmaster," Harry said, "so long as he is focused on me alone, I doubt that anything you both work on will even register to him."

Quickly checking the time, Harry stood, "It's getting late in the day, so we ought to conclude this sessions for the time being."

Draco also checked, widening his eyes when he realized that it was nearly lunch. They had been up here meditating for several hours. As though to confirm the time, Theodore's stomach rumbled loudly, calling for food, and they all smiled at each other.

It was a small step, but Draco felt more powerful already, and he couldn't wait for the next opportunity to learn about the powers of the Void. Harry unfortunately did not give a specific time that they would meet again, which gave Draco the impression that he was going to play by ear as to when they could get together without arousing suspicion from the Professor.

As they departed, Draco supposed that it was wisdom to now have a consistent meeting time, as patterns were what Dumbledore excelled at piecing together, according to his father at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that stringing out his meetings with Hermione and the two Slytherins wouldn't be what either party wanted, as they were so very eager to learn what he had to teach them, but for his own safety he had to. Even walking down the corridors of the school during class hours he could feel that he was being watched, whether by teachers or portraits that were in the Headmaster's service, he didn't know.

So he chose to simply lie low once again, acting the part of a nearly normal student, although taking what moments for his own practice that he could, but it simply wasn't what he was used to. He was growing quite bored of the Hogwarts system of teaching, and wanted more. Unfortunately, while that may be what he wanted or even needed to stay interested, he highly doubted that the teachers would allow him to learn much more than he was already, even with what amounts of tutoring that Flitwick and McGonagall had been willing to give him.

There was also something else bothering him. He had yet to actually explore the massive forest out past the grounds, filled with shadow and creatures that were considered dangerous by these wizards. But now, through the lines of power under the castle, Nobu'tan could sense something out in those trees that was a greater threat to him personally than anything else he had yet encountered.

It beckoned him toward the forest, but finding time to escape out there was difficult. He practically was free only once the weekends started, and even then he had the other three students to dodge about as he tried to manage their individual trainings, and avoided Dumbledore and Snape in the process.

Despite the many interruptions and lack of time to teach them, the three had already grown in their new abilities. Draco and Theodore were very methodical in their lessons, taking everything in stride as Nobu'tan carefully explained the dangers of their new powers, and had finally managed to successfully produce bolts of shadow on their own, and were chomping at the bit for the next major step, summoning their own imps, but Nobu'tan was waiting for that until a later date, preferable when they were well away from Dumbledore, as the amount of fel energy required for the very first summon would be hard to conceal for just one warlock, let alone two at once.

Hermione on the other hand was proving just how desperate the castle was to have mages of its own, as she had grown leaps and bounds in a very short time. She had already managed the basic combination spell that merged frost and fire magic into one attack, along with the ability to utilize each element separately, although her fire blast was rather weak compared to the frost bolt she could create. But it seemed that she had been expecting this, from what she had told Nobu'tan regarding her initial contact with the ley lines.

But that had been over two weeks ago. They had had no time since the girl had started prepping for their end of year examinations from the school, which Nobu'tan had initially decided to utilize to focus more on the Slytherins, but now he changed his mind.

So, on the appointed Friday, before the weekend that he'd now have free, Nobu'tan secreted himself out of Ravenclaw tower, utilizing all the stealth training that Gul'dan had put him through with assistance from various warriors of the Horde, and sneaked all the way to the bottom floor of the castle, easing out of the castle and darting across the wide lawns toward the lines of trees.

The forest seemed to call him, stronger than before, and Nobu'tan knew that whatever the threat to him was, it was in those trees this moment. Bypassing the gamekeepers hut, and ignoring the lamps that were on inside, Nobu'tan dodged into the first clearing out of sight of the castle.

Before even trying to go further in, he called upon his newest servant, "Sarti, come to me!" he chanted in the fel language, summoning the succubus out of the void.

"Couldn't resist, could you?" the female demon spoke seductively as she strode out of the shadows, sliding her hand down the Nobu'tan's face. He let her, knowing that the demon was well aware of how much stronger than her he was, and quickly explained the situation. "There's a great threat to me in this forest somewhere, and I intend to find out what it is and eliminate it if possible, you shall assist me."

"Well, doesn't that sound like fun?" the succubus said, smiling widely as he made provocative motions with her body, which Nobu'tan ignored. He had seen far too many orcs, and some humans, taken in by the wiles of these creatures, and the outcome was never pleasant for them, so he had learned early on not to underestimate these creatures, or any females for that matter, as he had silently witnessed much that went on in the camps of the Horde, but that had been mainly orcs and their women.

Shoving the thoughts aside, Nobu'tan started into the darkness of the trees, his companion slipping into darkness and keeping her powerful eyes trained on the surrounding area to keep her master safe.

Nobu'tan would have brought out other demons as well, but as he had no idea what the castle was warning him of, he felt it best to keep them in reserve just in case he needed to bring forth reinforcements to win, or escape if need be.

From all the supposed dangers he had both heard of and read about that dwelled in the forest, he may very well need the extra help in short order. Luckily, Sarti's presence seemed more than enough of a deterrent for the majority of the forest creatures, but when Nobu'tan reached a particularly shadowy nook that was nearing the deeper parts of the forest, a rustling above made him dodge back.

A large, eight-legged body dropped right where he had been standing, pincers snapping around its many eyes as the cart horse sized spider tried to box the young human in against a pair of trees. That was, of course, until the fel whip that the succubus carried lashed out, entwining a pair of the beast's legs and dragged it back a few paces as Sarti engaged it.

Dropping to a crouch, Nobu'tan checked the trees for more ambushers, and was relatively surprised when he saw none. Acromantula tended to hunt in small swarms, but this one was alone. It might have been a scout or sentry for the nest, which would mean that Nobu'tan would most assuredly want to turn away from there as quickly as possible. Powerful or not, a horde of sizeable spiders would eventually overwhelm even him.

Returning his attention to the creature attacking his servant, Nobu'tan called down a blast of shadow flame, which he had affectionately started to call the Hand of Gul'dan, which hit the spider squarely in the back, igniting it slightly as it continued to burn the hairy body.

He wanted to avoid using fire, even if it would have been the most effective it could also alert the hundred of relatives that this spider possessed, so Nobu'tan allowed his hands to freeze over as he started launching a barrage of icicles at the monster, impaling its thick hide with the sharp pieces of frozen water.

The ground around the battling Succubus and Acromantula started to freeze over, and soon the larger creature started to slow as the chill hindered its movements. Sarti spun around it, making the creature lumber in a circle to face the demon, just as Nobu'tan let loose a large projectile of frost, striking the spider in the face, and crushing the vital organs within.

The animal dropped, curling in upon itself in death. Sighing with relief, Nobu'tan immediately started in a different direction, not wanting to be anywhere nearer to more of these creatures until he was sure he could handle them in larger numbers, and this was not the time to try.

Soon enough, the various webbings in the foliage that he had only noticed after the spider attacked started to fade from the trees, and Nobu'tan knew that he was making his way out of the most dangerous area of the forest to him specifically.

What he did find though was equally strange. Smeared on the side of a tree was a silvery pool of some liquid that Nobu'tan had never seen before. If the consistency was anything to speak of it, the warlock would have to say it was blood, but it was from no creature that he had ever seen before.

Further ahead was another, slightly large stain on the ground, leading along the forest in a perfect trail. "Come on," he said to the Succubus, and together warlock and demon stalked through the undergrowth, following the splotches of blood as they became fresher and thicker.

Soon enough they arrived at a clearing with a large white something in the center, the moon above shining down on its pearly white coat. It looked like some sort of horse, but upon a closer inspection, Nobu'tan recognized it as one of the unicorns that wizards seemed to adore.

Although this creature was good and dead, and out of the shadows from the far side of the clearing stood a tall figure, cloak and hood obscuring its features as who or whatever it was approached the fallen beast, reaching its side and lowering itself to a mound in the animals side, drinking the silver liquid it seeped from the dead unicorn.

Nobu'tan was unafraid, but cautious, so he didn't make any move that may have alerted the unknown entity of his presence. The castle's warning came back full force, and he recognized that this thing was his dangerous foe, just as the hooded figure abruptly turned to look directly at him, silvery blood dribbling down its front as it got to its feet and started swiftly toward him.

The ancient scar on his head flared with burning pain as the figure approached, and Nobu'tan staggered back, dazed at the sudden pain. Of course, that did not stop his minion from defending him, Sarti's whip cracked between her master and the figure, demonic eyes burning with felfire as the Succubus charged in, her fingers turning to claws as she threatened the unknown assailant.

Rather than fight though, the figure fled, dodging into the trees and out of sight. Unfortunately, that left Nobu'tan with far more questions than answers, and Sarti had not seen more than he had regarding the hidden figure.

He had no other options but to do research on unicorns when he returned to the castle, and figure out what the figure's motive were in killing the creatures.

By the time he made it out of the trees and dismissed the succubus back to the Twisted Nether, the sun was starting to glimmer in the eastern sky, which fed the need for haste in which Nobu'tan flew back up through the castle to Ravenclaw Tower, quickly cleaning himself and dressing in fresh clothing, before starting down, still very early, for breakfast.

He didn't intend to stay long, and once the food appeared he grabbed just enough to refill his energy from the night in the forest before rushing up to the library and looking for every reference that he could find to the mystical animals.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for him to find an entire book regarding unicorns. Granted, as it was written for the wizarding community, much of the tome was devoted to the magical properties of the hair and horns of the beasts, but toward the end there was a small section regarding the blood of a unicorn, and a warning.

Apparently, while the mystical substance would preserve a life if one was even on the verge of death, it carried a heavy cost in the form of a curse. What the book meant by some sort of half-life however, was left to the reader's interpretation. Setting the book aside with an unsatisfied sigh, Nobu'tan tried to reason out the far bigger question.

Who or what was this enemy, and why was the very magic of the castle trying to warn him of it? And for that matter, why was whatever it was even here in the first place? There had to be easier places in the world to capture and kill unicorns that right outside of a school in a dark forest. Which meant that something other than the unicorns had brought the creature there?

It was absurd, but momentarily Nobu'tan wondered if the previous dark wizard that this world feared, the infamous Voldemort that had killed Nobu'tan's biological parents, was somehow connected. Seeing as his scar, which he had been quite informed that he had received from the man, had burned in the presence of that creature, it seemed a possibility at the least.

As for the where and why of its presence, Nobu'tan had a theory. If it was hunting unicorns for their blood, trying to stay alive, there might be something in or near the castle that would assure that fact, not that the orc raised human would have much of an idea what the exact object could be, but at the least there was a possible location for such an artifact.

Hadn't Archmage Dumbledore mentioned distinctively the third floor, right hand side corridor as out of bounds…? It seemed likely, albeit extremely foolish, place for such an item to be hidden in the castle, probably behind some sort of enchantments to defend it.

As it was, Nobu'tan suspected that the creature, who or whatever it might have been, had not managed thus far to enter the corridor, or get past the defenses. He was torn between a desire that such a thing not acquire whatever artifact was in the corridor, and curiosity as to what exactly Dumbledore was hiding.

Granted, most unfortunately it would be unwise for him to be found snooping around that corridor during the day, and there would be classes and final examinations to deal with in the next few days. Therefore, triggering Dumbledore's wrath would be most foolish.

He would bide his time until then, at least. Hopefully during that time Nobu'tan could figure out who was working to aid the creature within the castle, and find the best way to stop its plans, whatever they happened to be.

Leaving the library, Nobu'tan decided to wander the school for a bit, lost in thought about planning what he might face within the corridor, when he chose to venture into it, and simply avoid the rest of the school's population for a day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius Malfoy was not a simple man, if the luxurious home in Wiltshire was any indication, but the complexity extended far deeper than mere possessions could indicate. Since Yule he had been interested in one Harry Potter for a variety of reasons, each one more puzzling than the last.

Granted, he had been and still was a bound and 'loyal' Death Eater. If the Dark Lord was to rise again, he would have little choice but to willingly flock to the man's banner, but… if another option were to present itself, Lucius would have to consider his options.

He had seen what happened too many of the great houses of pureblood wizard in Britain during the last war. Decimation and destruction awaited those who refused the Dark Lord, wiping entire lines out for the slightest of infractions, and greatly hindering the progression of the purebloods.

It was… madness… the very cause they were supposed to uphold cast aside by the whim of their Lord, it didn't sit well with Lucius then, and it would never do so in the future. Potter however, as the last scion of one of those houses, granted once light, was a possible avenue for Lucius and several like minded Death Eater families to have an escape from their Lord.

It was obvious to many of those who had actually watched the boy during Yule that he was unlike any eleven year old that they had ever seen, far more independent and, frankly, adult than the lad ought to have been. Adding to that some of the more interesting details that Severus had let slip, or had hinted at with his silence, and there was promise that the boy had either practiced Dark Magic, or had it practiced on his person.

Either option would suit them just fine, as they wouldn't have a light wizard over them. Several of the families were of the opinion to approach the boy openly, demand to know his allegiances and whether he would join them, but Lucius was far more cautious. The boy was under Dumbledore's thumb while at Hogwarts, and there was much danger in alerting the old man to their desires to abandoned the Dark Lord.

While the Minister still listened to the old wizard, even over Lucius, there was always the threat of exposure and Azkaban, bribes and plea deals regardless. It simply wasn't safe to act with Dumbledore in the picture.

However, several letters from Draco had alluded to something of a comraderly between Lucius' son, his best friend Theodore Nott Jr. and Mr. Potter, despite their different houses. There were even hints about some sort of new magic that the boy's were practicing, which while amusing, didn't seem like the sort of games that three eleven year olds would try to play on their seniors.

That fact alone that Draco had mentioned it had peaked Lucius' interest all the more. Perhaps he ought to personally invite Mr. Potter to his manor over the summer holidays, call it an act of friendship from his son or what have you. Dumbledore would definitely object, probably of the mind to tuck the boy away where none could find and harass him, which under different circumstances Lucius could understand. The life of a celebrity at that age must have been torment on a daily level, to exceed what Lucius himself went through as an adult with massive quantities of gold.

But still, the offer could at least be presented, and there was nothing Dumbledore could legally do if it was in a letter, could he?

Thinking about how the old Headmaster might try to control Potter, even indirectly, Lucius decided it would be best to include the letter in one of his son's care packages, with instructions to hand deliver it to the other boy.

Placing quill to ink, Lucius thought carefully of how to word the invitation to not seem too desperate for the boy to come to the manor. In the end, he decided that a cordial statement of general interest in the boy as well as mentioning the friendship he had with Draco would be as casual as he could make the on the spot invitation.

The letter completed and waiting for Narcissa to prepare the next box of sweets and things from home for Draco, Lucius turned in the chair of his personal study to look out the large window that overlooked the grounds of his manor. The area outside was already in the process of shifting from spring to summer, as the enchantment on the grounds kept it in the most pristine condition for the time of year.

Not even the sight of flowers and other vegetation sweeping out across his property could distract Lucius from the many questions that plagued him about Harry Potter. There was something being kept hidden from him, behind the walls of Hogwarts, and it had to do with the boy. Lucius was certain of this, as Dumbledore wouldn't have sent Severus along to a gathering that the man had clearly not wanted to attend unless there was a very good reason, and escorting Harry Potter, while close, just wasn't enough to demand Severus' touch to the task.

No, Lucius could tell that there was something else about the boy, something that Albus Dumbledore in all his wisdom feared to become public knowledge. Could it have something to do with the mysterious hiding place that the boy had vanished to for nearly ten years? Lucius, along with the rest of the wizarding world had wondered at the wild stories that were told of that night, but being privy to much of the background information Lucius had discounted the rumors almost immediately, but it was true that the little boy had promptly vanished without a trace from that time until he reappeared in Hogwarts last September.

Draco had not hinted at any such thing, but Lucius figured that it was a well guarded secret between Potter, Dumbledore or the pair of them. He would have to do some digging in the Ministry and see what just had happened that night.

Returning his attention to the light stemming from the east, and the new day that was approaching, Lucius allowed his thoughts to finally turn to the long list of objectives that he had to prepare for this day, the life of a rich pureblood and school governor was never ending paperwork after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus glowered over the steaming cauldron before him. The little Hufflepuff third year cowered back as Severus went into a small rant of scathing remarks over the poor condition of the potion. Shrinking solutions they were supposed to be making, and yet if so much as a flower were to touch this dunderhead's concoction it would wither and die within moments. Vanishing the entire waste and giving the child a zero for the day, Severus turned and stalked back to his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

It was nearly the end of the school day, and his frustration with Albus was showing already, as he had his first extra lesson with Potter this evening. The boy had been sent the message, and responded that he would be most willing to take the extra lessons, much to Severus' chagrin.

Soon enough the bell released the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws from his clutches, and the twenty or so students fled from his sight after hurriedly packing their things. With a sigh, Severus waved his wand once, vanishing the large mess of ingredients and spilled potions that they had left behind, returning the room to serviceable levels of cleanliness.

It would be dinner now, Severus mused, so he ought to have at least an hour of peace before the boy arrived, but it seemed even that was to be denied him as someone knocked on the classroom door. "Enter…" Severus grunted, frowning as Potter appeared in the doorway, a rather large kit of potion ingredients in his arms along with his normal potioneering equipment.

"You're over an hour early, Potter," Severus said, controlling his annoyance as he started to mark essays to distract himself from looking at the boy.

"Apologizes, Professor, but I figured it would be best to bring my things down beforehand so that we could begin immediately on time instead of wasting even a moment with me setting up." Potter replied logically.

Unable to argue with the statement, Severus merely nodded, gesturing to the nearest desk and continued to mark essays from his fifth years. Such disappointments, every one of the students he had to deal with, even some of the Slytherins.

Food arrived from the kitchens for him, as per his usual when he had something in the evenings, but much to his annoyance more arrived on one of the student desks for Potter. Albus must have been interfering again. The boy set up his cauldron, putting everything in a neat organized station before shifting to inspect the food that had appeared for him.

Severus did not touch his just yet, he had about three or four more papers from the current assignment to mark, and then he would be finished for the evening and could focus his entire attention of other things, and Potter…

By the time he had done so and turned to his own meal about twenty minutes later, the boy was already finished, had washed his hands in one of the lab's sinks and returned to his kit, pulling out several common herbs that Severus was very familiar with. They had little usage in most parts of Potion making, but curious as to what the boy was up to, Severus watched as the boy pulled out a pestle and mortar, crushing the various herbs into a sticky paste and filling several vials with the liquid and dregs.

Once he had about half a dozen each of two different plants, Potter turned to the cauldron, lighting it with a touch of his wand and conjuring water into it, filling it around halfway. Magical energy hummed off the boy, not by his own will, but in resonance to the actions he was taking, and Severus couldn't help himself as he stopped and watched.

One by one, the boy added alternating vials of the two plants into the cauldron, stirring three times clockwise between each pair of vials. The water turned a deep crimson, the shade becoming deeper and more vibrant with each set of crushed herbs that was added. When at last the last of the boy's little vials were added, Potter set aside the stirring rod and held out his hands, which started to glow faintly purple, the color of the Arcane from what Albus had described.

The potion flared once, before settling, and Potter killed the flame, withdrawing more bottles for collecting his potion, emptying the entire cauldron into six large flasks.

"And what potion is that supposed to be, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, confused as to why the boy felt that that concoction, even powered by magic, was worth anything.

"A basic healing potion, Professor," was the reply, which made Severus blink once. "Albeit made from a system of potioneering far different from what I've learned from you thus far, but I wanted you to see and handle a sample so you can understand where I come from in this field. I learned the basics of Alchemy from one of my mentors, but again, it seems more a combination of arts that are known widely here."

Severus wasn't sure if he could completely believe what he was hearing, but the fact was that with two plants the boy had created some sort of potion, using his own magic to either change the elements within them or something, so it was hard to disprove exactly what the crimson liquid would do, even if Severus doubted that it would heal.

"Well," he said as the boy planted a few of the vials on his desk, "I'll let Madam Pomfrey determine what she thinks of your potions before coming to any sort of conclusion." He paused, realizing that he had somehow become very interested in the level of the boy's skills, and the desire to test him with several complicated potions had arisen in him. "I suppose it's time we begin, turn to page three hundred and ninety four in your book, and let see what you can do with the forgetfulness draft."

And so it went, Severus would tell the boy to make a particular potion, or give him the instructions if it wasn't part of the first year material, and the boy would go to a new cauldron and proceed exactly as he was given, following steps perfectly, and even as time went on, improving upon them by small margins.

Begrudgingly, Severus couldn't help but be increasingly impressed with how Potter worked, as they soon had potions up to and including fourth year material simmering around the room, waiting for proper time for stewing on some for them all to be completed.

Potter would not stop smiling as Severus dismissed him at the end of their lesson either.


	14. C13: The Face of Evil

**A note of explanation: Several had expressed concerns about the use of certain terminology and the relative meaning regard the Nether vs the Void. To that I remind you all that, as this story begins not in World of Warcraft era, but many years beforehand, the peoples of Azeroth didn't make a distinction between the two as of yet, and therefore used both terms to refer to the generic place where demons came from. In due time I will be changing the use of the terms to correctly reflect the change of usage as time progresses, when character's knowledge expands. I will also point out that the concept of the term 'Fel' as referring generally to the power of warlocks is actually a really new term to the Warcraft universe (thanks Warcraft movie!), and therefore will be used interchangeably with Nether and Void as well, until said time that the differentiation takes place. Still, many thanks to those that put forth the time to bring up these concerns, and please, continue to review and enjoy!**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **The Face of Evil**

Hermione was beyond frustrated. Not only were Hogwarts exams frightfully stressful, requiring nearly her entire attention to make sure that she had every fact and nuance prepared for each given subject, but she had also had little to no time recently to meet with Harry in secret to work on her ability in the Arcane.

It was odd, but Hogwarts magic seemed almost dull and simple in comparison to the free formed power of magic that the Ravenclaw taught, more intuitive based and less reliant on specific phrased and motions to produce results. Hermione adored the times that they had to practice and her abilities with wielding pure and raw magical energy was improving. Harry and confided that he sensed that she would be less effective with the elements, but for her not to worry about it, as each divergent talent had its own advantages and drawbacks, so she should be pleased with herself for making such progress.

Still, looking at her schedule for the exams for the hundredth time, Hermione wondered how the Ravenclaw boy would be handling his studies at Hogwarts. If he was anywhere near where Hermione felt, she could only guess that the magic they studied here was frightfully boring for him. If Charms class was any indication that seemed to be the case, although with how Professor Flitwick doted on Harry it was probably hard for him to feel bored in that class.

As the boy would get the charms they learned within the first few minutes of class, Harry had taken to assisting others with the practical material as it was assigned, with the Ravenclaw Head of House's permission, or else he would be given more advanced work to practice while the rest of the class tried to catch up with him, either of which would keep him busy throughout the period.

Professor Flitwick was often praising Harry for how well he had taken to charm work, and had mentioned once that Harry's mother had taken her mastery in the field of study before Harry had been born, attributing his talent for it there. Whether this was the same in the rest of his classes, Hermione didn't know, but it was good enough of proof to her that Harry was very advanced when it came to magical learning.

Only, she knew from the boy's own mouth that he did not actually know any of the magic they learned here before coming, as he had spent the majority of his time learning the Arcane as a young boy, along with several potioneering-like professions that he mentioned to her once or twice. She had seen his personal inking set, that he had made with his own hands, as they boy wrote out complicated designs on pieces of parchment, which had allowed him to enchant them with Arcane Magic and prep them to be holding places for enchantments or other spells that could be saved and activated later on.

It was fascinating, and Hermione hoped to learn all that she could from Harry, but unfortunately their primary education at Hogwarts did take priority, and because of it, she did not expect to learn as much as she'd like before the year ended, and they would be separated when Hermione returned home to the Muggle world for the summer.

Still, even without Harry to guide her, the connection to the castle's magic remained, and she would have opportunities to practice when she was home, however that seemed unwise. Apparently the Ministry could track magic done with a wand, but whether that also applied to the Arcane Hermione didn't know. In any case, it would be best to not risk it, especially with how protective of the knowledge Harry seemed to be, so she'd squeeze what time to practice on her own that she could before the summer.

So, with the last of her exams completed, Hermione found herself wandering the heavily disused sections of the castle, running through the sensations of the castle beneath her feet. As of yet she had not learned any particular abilities that controlled raw magical energy, only ice and fire, but she distinctly felt more of a leaning toward ice. The fear on injury and damaging those around her with fire was less than appealing to her.

Feeling rather… inspired, she started to pool some of the magic into her body, feeling it well up inside her as her hands glowed the familiar purple that she had seen Harry's glow when he used the powers of pure Arcane magic. Wondering what she should try first, she made to step forward, when with a jarring sensation, Hermione found herself sprawling forward, some twenty feet ahead of where she had been.

Looking back, she marveled at the short range teleportation that had just taken place. There was no denying what she had just performed. It was obvious that apparition was a decided simply thing for the Arcane, when wizards needed to wait until the ages of seventeen to even begin attempting. Grinning to herself, Hermione stood and tried to repeat the feat, willing herself to blink back to where she had originally stood.

The smallest of pops sounded in her ears, and she reappeared in the exact spot, walking ahead a step back in the direction she had come from. "Most wondrous…" she commented aloud, trying to think of other things to practice. Oh wouldn't Harry be surprised when she showed him all that she had learned on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan waited until nightfall after his last examination to make his move. He had learned through several discreet questions that Archmage Dumbledore was leaving this night for the Ministry in London for some business, and it was highly likely from the prickling pain in his scar that whatever he had fought in the forest would make a move on the forbidden corridor this night.

So the course of action was simple, get to that whatever was hidden first.

Sneaking with all haste through the corridors and down the stairs to the third floor, Nobu'tan narrowly passed the irritable caretaker, several ghosts, and even a Professor or two as he made the dangerous trip to the locked door.

Wizard magic prove itself useful here, allowing him to easily break the simple charm that held the door shut, and with a gentle shove, Nobu'tan let the wooden barrier swing open. What awaited him on the other side however, was not something he had truly anticipated. A massive, three-headed dog barred his path, standing atop a trapdoor in the otherwise bare room, all three heads sniffing the air and growling lowly at him.

Knowing that he had to save any use of his fel magic until he had absolutely no choice but to reveal himself, Nobu'tan pulled out a favored spell of the Mages of Dalaran, and simply transfigured the dog into a harmless sheep, which bleated pitifully as the orc raised human strode past it, nudging it off the trapdoor as he approached.

The polymorph wouldn't last for long however, so Nobu'tan wasted little time in wrenching open the door and gazing into the blackness beneath him. Pooling some mage fire in his hand, he let the small orb drop to the spongy floor far below, marveling how the mess of vines and planets writhed in fear of the flames.

So, the next obstacle was some sort of murderous plant, he thought; simple enough to bypass. Aiming for the thickest part of the plant he could, Nobu'tan leapt, landing as the polymorph wore off and the dog started to bark in protest of its forced change. The vines and feelers started to try and wrap themselves around Nobu'tan, but flames burst from his hands, setting the heart of the plant alight, and it cringed back, releasing the warlock and fleeing to the dark corners of the room.

Chuckling to himself, Nobu'tan rose to his feet and quickly found the door to the next challenge. A rustle of wings met his ears as he entered and looked around. Nobu'tan spotted hundreds of little; key shaped flying objects in the air. "Are these just meant to slow down those who would enter?" he asked aloud, calling upon the power of frost and sniping at each and every flying key he could see. As the bolts of frost made contact, they froze part of the key, making it far too heavy for the charms keep them in the air, and sending them plunging to the ground.

After several moments, Nobu'tan spotted one that stood out from the rest, a tarnished silver key, which was somewhat bigger than the mess of gold, and took particular aim to knock that one form the sky. Once it too had fallen, Nobu'tan walked across the sea of partially frozen keys and scooped up the large silver one, comparing it to the door handle across the room.

"A perfect match…" he muttered as the key slid easily into the lock and turned. Almost bored, Nobu'tan pushed into the next room, where the torches ignited to reveal a massive wizarding chessboard. Lines of white pieces barred his way to the door out of here, and while Nobu'tan was not unfamiliar with the game, he had little desire to waste more of his precious time in getting to his destination.

Taking a running start, he allowed fire to blast from the bottoms of his feet, picking up speed as the front line of pawns drew their weapons to block his way. Smirking, Nobu'tan leapt into the air, using the magic of the Arcane to blink ahead, bypassing both lines of chessmen, and dashed to the door as the pieces turned to try and stop him.

He slammed the door before they even had a chance to reach him, and whirled to face whatever was next. An overpowering stench invaded his nostrils, and without thinking Nobu'tan dodged to the left as a massive club struck the floor where he had been standing.

Another ogre-like being that the wizards foolishly called trolls, far larger than the one encountered in October, lumbered closer, raising its weapon to try and crush Nobu'tan. Reacting instantly, the young warlock and mage didn't hesitate to blink forward again, past the lumbering behemoth. Ice flew from outstretched hands, impaling the thick hide and hindering the beast's movement, just long enough for Nobu'tan to bring forth a pair of water elementals.

But even as the pair of liquid sentient creatures charged the ogre, Nobu'tan was already leaving through the nearby door. Killing the beast would only make it easier for his prey to arrive later, and he couldn't have that happen now could he…?

The room beyond had Severus Snape's signature all over it. A small table sat in the middle of the otherwise bare room, seven unassuming bottles of various sizes and shapes covering the surface. The trap began as soon as Nobu'tan stepped over the threshold of the room. Flames, jet black ahead and deep purple behind, leapt across the doorways.

Smirking at the creativity of the magic, Nobu'tan approached the table, knowing that this was one that he'd have to actually play by the rules regarding. A parchment was near the bottles, with a riddle written in the Potion Master's hand:

' _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._ '

Almost laughing at the puzzle, Nobu'tan recognized the ingenuity of it. For all the magical prowess some wizards professed, even those back in Dalaran or the camp of the Stormreavers, many Mages and Warlocks and Wizards lacked a great deal of logic and reasoning. They would be left with a two in seven chance of escaping this room. Of course, Gul'dan wouldn't have tolerated a foolish apprentice, and had thus instructed Nobu'tan in the way of puzzles and traps, so it was easy to gauge the lineup of bottles with the puzzle, and read between the lines to find that the smallest bottle would permit him access ahead to where the item he sought presumable lay hidden.

Downing the contents of the little bottle in one swallow, and ignoring the chill that flooded his system, Nobu'tan jumped through the black flames confidently, landing in the chamber beyond and stumbling as the steps led down to a sunken platform.

The torches lit as he entered, casting their light reflectively upon the mirror that he had briefly encountered once before during Christmas. Narrowing his eyes, Nobu'tan knew that this would be the actual challenge, as the mirror showed him what he deeply wanted, and there would be some sort of trap imbedded into the reflective surface to keep him from actually acquiring the item he sought, whatever it was.

So instead of even bothering with the mirror, Nobu'tan started his own layout of traps for the being that should be coming soon, if not right behind him.

"Sarti, Xorton, Quzkol, come forth…" he hissed to the void, summoning those three loyal demons to his side. The imp bounced about happily at the anticipation in the air of violence, while the Succubus wiggled her backside annoyingly. The Voidwalker merely merged with the shadows obediently, obscuring itself from view even as the other pair of demons hid themselves.

Nobu'tan was about to summon an Eye of Kilrogg to check behind when he heard a door slam in the previous chamber. "Master, I believe someone has beaten us here, did you see how damaged the troll was?" a familiar voice stated.

"Quirrell," Nobu'tan whispered, hiding behind of the many pillars in the mirror room, even as the man spoke to his unknown master about Snape's puzzle, which was just as easily solved as it had been by Nobu'tan. The turbaned and robed figure stumbled through the flames, checking around wildly before moving directly to the mirror.

"I can see it!" Quirrell said triumphantly, "the Stone is in the mirror, but how should I get it?"

"Well, well…" Nobu'tan said, turning around the pillar and coming into the torchlight, "Who'd have thought a spineless coward like you would turn out to be my enemy…"

" _Incarcerous_!" the man bellowed, unleashing ropes and chains to entangle the young warlock, sending him roughly to the stone ground. With a tiny gesture, Nobu'tan stopped his demons from coming to his aid. He needed answers before the man met his brutal end.

"Yes, Potter… me!" Quirrell said without a hint of his former stuttering to be seen. "Although I'm somewhat surprised to see you here so soon… and alone…"

"Well," Nobu'tan said absently, wiggling to a slightly more comfortable position in the bonds that held him tightly, "you have to admit it wasn't a terribly hard mystery to solve, with you trying to kill me no less than three times, and then the supposed forbidden chambers and all that…"

"Of course," Quirrell said, hardly paying attention to Nobu'tan as he returned to the mirror, gazing deeply into it. "But just wait quietly there while I examine this mirror. You will be dealt with after I have the stone for my Master."

"Now that's the part I want to ask about," Nobu'tan said, struggling and up righting himself to a sitting position. "That's the one small detail I never bothered to riddle out. Just what is it that you seek so desperately here, and is it indeed hidden within that mirror?"

Quirrell paused, looking at him in confusion. "You honestly don't know?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You came all this way, past all those obstacles to stop me without even knowing the reason? You are either very brave or very foolish then…"

"If I was foolish, why would I be sitting here comfortably, chatting with you when you supposedly have me all nice and tied up?" Nobu'tan retorted, smirking as Quirrell was distracted from the mirror once again.

" _Use the boy… use the boy…_ " came a voice from Quirrell, but the man's mouth had not moved. The man however, raised his eyebrows, understanding whatever the message meant, "Yes…" he said to himself, before jabbing his wand at Nobu'tan, dragging the chained up warlock over to him, in front of the mirror.

Quirrell pulled on the material binding him, forcing Nobu'tan to look into the mirror, "What do you see," he demanded. Nobu'tan was rather surprised. He had no care for whatever item the mirror hid from the man, but the tied up Nobu'tan in the reflective surface winked out at him, while some heaviness dropped into his robe's inner pocket.

"Well, that was interesting…" Nobu'tan said, before twitching his head in signal for his demons to attack. Rolling away quickly, Nobu'tan relished the scream of shock and surprise from Quirrell as the shadows merged back into Xorton, and the Voidwalker lunged at the wizard, batting aside the wand as the man tried to throw up a hasty spell.

From behind the man at the same time, Sarti lashed out with her whip, the thick cord snapping around the wizard's neck painfully; meanwhile Quzkol launched several fireballs around the room randomly, adding to the chaos that allowed Nobu'tan to put distance from him and the other wizard.

"What are these creatures!" Quirrell wailed, "Master help me!"

" _Fool, the boy has the stone, get the boy_!" the other voice cried back coldly, and with a blinding flash and deafening bang, the three demons were thrown backward, even as Quirrell was leaping at Nobu'tan.

"Enough games!" the warlock roared, summoning all the power of the Void that he possessed, chains and ropes breaking as he shifted into a form that he had not used in some time. Purple energy leeched off on him as he stood up on the hooves that had replaced his feet, and fanned out his massive wings threateningly as Quirrell skidded to a halt.

"What is this magic?" the man breathed, even as Nobu'tan allowed fire and shadow to course through him, the bolt of power deflected a the last moment by a hastily raised shield of Quirrell's.

" _Let me speak to him_." the voice said again, and Nobu'tan rumbled out a laugh as master and servant argued for a moment before the pitiful Quirrell started to remove his turban, revealing the second face hidden there.

" _Harry Potter_ ," the face said, and Nobu'tan could only guess that this was Voldemort. " _What interesting powers you have amassed in ten years_ , _perhaps I was wrong about you all this time_. _See what I have become in the time since we last met. Mere shadow and vapor… forced to share another's body. Unicorn blood sustains me, but I cannot create a body of my own, but that stone you have will do it._ "

"You don't seem to be in a position to make deals such as that…" Nobu'tan said, even as his minions closed distance around Quirrell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort laughed, a wheezing sound that rattled from deep within him, " _Yes, you do seem to be the one in power at this moment,_ " he admitted. The boy before him, clad in power and in the shape of some great demon was magnificent to behold.

Where the child had been hiding and what the boy had been learning was a mystery to him, as had the majority of what had happened over the last ten years, but power was always something he could gauge. Strong though the boy appeared, Voldemort wondered if he could sustain it, as the child was still only a first year.

" _Nevertheless, you will give me the stone, and together we could do extraordinary things, you know power, and how to use it, this is clear boy. But let me shape it, direct your power to greater heights…_ " he said, struggling to form words with his weakening energy.

"I think not," the boy said, his voice a mere rumble from the distortion of his power. "I have all the direction I need for my own ends."

" _Kill him!_ " Voldemort roared. He would suffer no equal, and if this brat would not bend his neck to Voldemort, then he would die here and now.

The demon clad child spread his wings and leapt over Quirrell, landing on the far side with a mighty crash, before whirling and sending out streams of energy and fire from his clawed hands, even as the demonic minions pounced again.

Quirrell fought, curses and dark arts flying from his wand, but Voldemort knew that the man was far too weak, and there was little that he himself could do to alter the situation in his current state. The man would die, painfully in fact, once Voldemort left his husk of a body, but at the least he learned much about the powers that the boy controlled. As they entered he had watched the different magical energies that were active in the third floor. Aside from the wizarding traces of many of the professors, there was another, very distinct magical signature, humming brighter as they approaching this chamber.

The boy had great power, but not as the wizards taught in Hogwarts did. This was something that Voldemort had to understand further before he challenged the boy again. Quirrell's folly would turn to Voldemort's advantage in the end.

As he rose up and out of the dead corpse of Quirrell, Voldemort had one last glimpse of the boy as his demonic form left him, red eyed with the heavy use of the Dark Arts, he smirked. Finally there was a challenger worthy of his time, rather than the muggle loving fool Dumbledore.

He would need to fine somewhere to hide for the time being, and await another servant to heed his call, but his time with Quirrell had strengthened him, hopefully another came soon, but even still he had plenty to work out in his mind. Voldemort knew he had studied something somewhere that had made mention of these beasts that served Potter, but he struggled to recall where at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus stormed from the entrance hall to the third floor corridor. he had known that it was a risk, leaving at a time like thing with the stone in its current position, but he was sure that the mirror of Erised would keep it from Voldemort busy long enough for him to get the silent warnings from the corridor and return.

But he hadn't expected such a fast reaction to his absence, and he hoped that he wasn't too late if events happened as he thought they might. Despite Harry finding the mirror over the winter break, he wasn't certain if the boy would be interested enough to riddle out the mystery of the stone, and pursue Quirrell into the third floor for it or not. The first few rooms left no answers to whether this was the case or not, with Fluffy the Cerberus fast asleep from enchantment, while the Devil's Snare and flying keys were both dealt with as they were meant to be.

Professor McGonagall's chess set was where the oddities started. Certainly the white set was defeated, but from the small counter they installed to track the number of victories, only one game had been played. The troll was unconscious, with massive welts on its head from severe blows. Finally Severus' puzzle, decidedly clever, had also been bypassed, leaving the mirror only as a barrier between Voldemort and the stone.

Parting the flames with the secret passphrase, Albus stepped through to the finale room, noticing immediately the smashed mirror, its glass shards littering the stone floor along with a mass of ashes in the shape of a human form. Slumped against a nearby pillar, nearly dead from exhaustion, was Harry.

"Harry…" Albus said, ignoring all else and going to the boy. The boy was alive, although much of his magical energy was drained away, possibly in a frightful battle with Quirrell. The older wizard was dead, but with a casual wave of the Elder Wand, Albus could sense the magic of Voldemort about, along with excesses of Dark Magic.

A terrible duel, to be sure, surmounting with Harry defeating or mortally wounding Quirrell, and Voldemort fleeing the man's body, which utterly destroyed the vessel he had housed in for nearly a year.

Albus took Harry up in his arms, surprised at how heavy the small boy actually was, and carried him out of the secreted area and back to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey wasted no time upon seeing the boy to prepared a bed for him, transfiguring the lad's clothing into a hospital gown and starting several scans to make sure he was completely free of injury.

"Magical exhaustion, and several minor cuts and scrapes, nothing more..." She declared after a few moments, "Bed rest should fix him up in about a day or two."

Albus nodded, it was obvious that until Harry's magic levels returned he would be unable to get any definite answers about what occurred down in the room with the mirror, but clearly Voldemort had not gotten a hold of the Stone, or else Harry would have been dead.

But then, Albus thought hard, where was the Stone, if Voldemort didn't have it and the mirror was broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan awoke groggily, surrounded by irritating whiteness. Groaning mildly, he realized what must have happened. He delved too deeply into the Void, drawing so much magic that it started to pull back on him, trying to drag him out into the Twisted Nether; a common and rather foolish mistake that killed many a Warlock Neophyte. Gul'dan wouldn't have tolerated such a mistake, and would have punished him severely for such a miscalculation, but that only reminded Nobu'tan that his mentor was very far away from him now.

He survived, even if much of his personal magic had been depleted to defeat Quirrell and Voldemort, but that probably led to other problems, as the orc raised human could only guess that Archmage Dumbledore had found him and brought him back to the Hospital to recover, which meant that the old man would suspect many things regarding the outcome of the battle, such as the location of the artifact that the man was after.

Finding his wand on the nightstand next to the bed, Nobu'tan grabbed it, changing the horrid and uncomfortable clothing back into his school robes, and fished out the item that had appeared there when he looked in the mirror. The blood red stone was certainly a strange object, but not one that he was unfamiliar with.

"A Philosopher's Stone?" he asked aloud, confused. "That was all he was after?"

This really puzzled the young warlock. He knew bit and pieces of advanced Alchemy, as far as Azeroth was concerned, and these mystical stones, while rare and priceless, were more or less used for only transmutations of metals as far as he knew. Were there some other abilities of the rare substance that these wizards were more aware of than he?

It warranted hanging onto the item, at the least, even if keeping it hidden that he had it would prove somewhat difficult with Dumbledore literally breathing down his neck every spare moment now. Speaking of which, as he hid the item back in his robes, the old man entered, looking disturbingly cheery.

"Ah, Harry, good to see you up and around again…" he said brightly, making Nobu'tan feel slightly sick inside, "You gave us all quite a fright, going down into the third floor all on your own after Quirrell…"

Nobu'tan remained silent, allowing the man to continue in his false assumption of the events. So long as the old man thought that Nobu'tan had gone to save this stone, he may be in the clear for a little while.

"However…" Dumbledore continued, causing the warlock to pause in his thoughts, "there are a few questions that I'm afraid I must ask you regarding what happened."

The old man shifted, stepping to a chair next to the bed on which Nobu'tan was sitting, and the orc raised human tensed as the powerful Archmage sat next to him. "I have to admit I was quite surprised to find that you had gone after Quirrell, when it seemed you had little interest in anything related to the mysterious circumstances that were happening this year."

Nobu'tan shrugged, it was the truth that he hadn't cared less about the blatant hooks to try and get him involved with matters that were not relative to getting back to Azeroth. "Well, I suppose the castle itself warned me, so I didn't really know why he was there or what he was after, just that it was a threat that needed to be eliminated."

"…The… castle, warned you?" Dumbledore said, puzzled.

"One of the first lessons an Arcane user learns is how to tap into the ambient magic of a powerful location to power their spells. I chose Hogwarts as it was the most logical choice, with four ley lines under it…" Nobu'tan said, turning away slightly. He was still hesitant to tell the old man too much regarding the Arcane; just in case the man's wickedly brilliant mind noticed the differences between the true arcane spells he possessed and his Warlock abilities.

"So that would make magical locations such as Hogwarts partially sentient." Dumbledore surmised, stroking his beard in thought.

"To an extent, yes," Nobu'tan agreed, "magic does wondrous and sometimes frightening things when left alone for centuries, and the castle was quite forceful in making the connection to me, and I expect it would be the same for any mages that come in the future, if they come."

The old man smiled, "Does that mean you're deciding to become more serious about showing more of that magic to me?"

Nobu'tan shrugged, avoiding the question. Getting back to the original topic to throw the man off of him as quickly as possible, Nobu'tan continued, "I never did learn what Quirrell was after, as he broke the mirror during our fight, and I didn't see anything fall out of it, so I guess it was lost. A pity that, it must have been something powerful for Voldemort to want it so badly…"

Dumbledore sighed, and Nobu'tan smirked to himself as the old man began his small explanation. "Well, in brief, the item was a stone that belonged to an influential friend of mine named Nicholas Flamel, who is an alchemist of some renown for the time being. The stone was his crowning achievement, and the tool that allowed him and his wife to live for well over eight centuries. If it is indeed gone, then they have only a limited amount of time left on this world."

That caused Nobu'tan to pause. Could he condemn two unknown people to death for the selfish reason to hang onto a small stone? Could he trust that Dumbledore was even telling the truth? As far as he knew there was no such property of the Philosopher's stone, but what if…

"I… I'm sorry to hear that…" he said slowly, slowly accepting that the old wizard had already accepted that his friends were going to die, and there were means and uses that Nobu'tan had for such a stone that would help him return home. It was selfish, but if Gul'dan had taught Nobu'tan anything, it was that sacrifices must be made for the power to do anything worthwhile, and all the better if the sacrifice was someone else's.

"Well, it cannot be helped," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet a moment later. "To the well organized mind, death is merely the first step to the next great adventure, and Both Nicholas and Perenelle have had plenty of years to enjoy this life, and were more than ready to accept the consequences when they loaned me the stone in the first place… but still…"

The old man trailed off, before bidding Nobu'tan a good day and departed. Only once the man was out the door did Nobu'tan let out a sigh of relief. It was short lived however, once the Hospital Matron caught sight of one of her patients up and about, and immediately started running a battery of magical tests on him, making sure that nothing had changed from when he was brought in the night previous.

"You're magical levels are back in an acceptable range, but you need to take it easy Mr. Potter, so that they can return to normal. No heavy spell casting for at least a week, not that you'll have the chance once the summer holiday begins… You're free to go."

That statement had Nobu'tan pausing. Did they honestly think that they had the right or power to stop him from using his magic at any time? Shrugging off the thought, Nobu'tan chose to enjoy his last remaining week at the school, blatantly ignoring what madness was awaiting him when the school finally closed and the question of where he was going to go came up again. As per Pomfrey's orders, he even limited his spell casting, only working marginally on his skills from Inscription and Alchemy instead, as they were far less demanding than his combat abilities.

Unfortunately, time moved on unhindered, and the dreaded day arrived when the students started to file out of the school, back toward the village and the station that would return them to their families. Nobu'tan had been requested to remain in the castle for Archmage Dumbledore to make the appropriate arrangements for his summer home, waiting until the last of the other children had left before walking with the young warlock to the edge of the castle's wards.

Looking back at the towering structure, Nobu'tan felt a small wave of sadness at departing the powerful magical location. Not particularly because of any form of nostalgia or sadness at missing the people, but more because he could feel the magic straining to reach him the further away he got, making it all the more difficult for him to use his abilities as a mage.

Not a terrible loss by any means, but limiting his options nonetheless. It would prove awkward if he had to rely on his warlock abilities and someone undesired found out about them however, as Dumbledore made it quite clear that the wizard skills could be easily tracked by their government, the Ministry. A nuisance, to be sure, but there may yet be ways around that particular ruling.

Once Nobu'tan passed the outer boundary of the castle grounds with Dumbledore, the old man stopped, holding out his arm for the young warlock to take. Hesitating only for a moment, Nobu'tan knew that he had no choices in the matter, as it was obvious that the Archmage trusted him very little, and that him being allowed out of the man's immediate sight was something in and of itself.

Taking hold of the arm, Nobu'tan felt a somewhat uncomfortable squeezing sensation around him, before they appeared on a very bland and unappealing street. The houses were all strikingly similar in shape and build, so drastically different from the cities and communities that Nobu'tan had seen in Azeroth or even the small pockets of the wizarding world that it emanated an aura of boredom.

Unfortunately, it was to one of these houses, with a little number four on the sign before it, which Dumbledore approached. Stopping just outside the door, the old wizard turned back to Nobu'tan, "Well, here we are Harry; inside you'll find you mothers last living relatives, your Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. I expect it will be difficult for you, only meeting them for the first time now, and you'll all want some time alone to get to know each other, so I will leave you here. Remember what I said concerning magic, Harry, and know that you can come and go from Diagon via the Knight Bus. Just hold out your wand to summon it and it will transport you for a small fee wherever you please."

Nobu'tan nodded, knowing that this meant the man was effectively dumping him here, albeit giving him the means to come and go as he pleased, but enforcing that he remain here instead of running off, even though that would be his first instinct.

"What reaction am I supposed to expect?" Nobu'tan asked, "Do they know that I am coming?"

"They… are aware of your arrival, but they are less than impressed…" Dumbledore said hesitantly.

"As I thought…" Nobu'tan said, brushing past the Archmage and knocking on the door gently.

A very large man with a thick moustache and very little neck answered, glowering at the pair of them as he opened the door. "This is him then…" he said gruffly, with no introduction.

"That he is, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said, adjusting his eye glasses casually.

"Couldn't have bothered to have him put on normal clothes, could you?" the man retorted angrily, "Well, come in already, your letting all the cool air out, hurry up boy!"

Nobu'tan already didn't like this man, but obediently shuffled inside, looking around the spotless and frightfully mundane hallway. There were some items that he recognized, like the clocks on the walls and the strange orbs that emitted light, but at the same time there were bizarre things that he had never seen before, contraptions that reminded him strongly of the gnomes of Dalaran.

Inside the sitting room was a horse-faced woman, presumable his Aunt, and an extremely fat boy with blond hair that looked strikingly like the man. Soon enough the walrus-like man returned, without Archmage Dumbledore. He looked rather flustered, and Nobu'tan could guess that having his nephew in his house was the last thing he wanted.

"So…" he said hesitantly, unsure as to what to expect from these people.

"Well, you're here now. We've prepared the spare bedroom for you to use for the summer, but we expect you to deal with you own food and stay out of our way as much as possible…" the man said bluntly.

Nobu'tan nodded, desiring nothing less than that himself. "I understand, and I don't plan on sticking around for more than what Dumbledore wants, I have a friend who's parents invited me to stay with them during the latter part of the summer, so if you'd like…"

"Yes, please go," the woman said rather high pitched and quickly.

"As you wish…" Nobu'tan replied with a small bow, before turning toward the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. The first door was ajar, and inside he found a small bedroom, filled with junk and broken items that were presumably the other boy's destroyed belongings.

It didn't matter, he would be gone for most of the days on end if he got his way, and once he went to the Malfoy's he wouldn't return before Dumbledore came to take him back to the castle, which he knew that the old man would.

Whatever reasons the wizards had for keeping him had clearly not been resolved, so he knew that they'd be back. Perhaps he could get answers out of Lord Malfoy when he was a guest in the man's home. As the man seemed to be at odds with Dumbledore, according to Draco's mannerisms regarding the Archmage, he would be the ideal ally against the old man's manipulations.

But how well could he trust anyone at this point? He wouldn't know even if he had to bother with any of them until he contacted the Burning Legion through Stonehenge. Luckily, Malfoy Manor seemed to be in the same general location as the standing stones, so it would be a short trek from there to reach the magical location and perform the rites to speak.


	15. C14: Clashes of Will

**Many thanks to those who continue to review. ~F**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 **Clashes of Will**

Nobu'tan had known walking into this situation that the Dursley family was going to be incredibly unpleasant, and that Dumbledore had been more than aware of the fact, but even still he had sorely underestimated exactly how unpleasant that they could try to be when they put their collective minds to it.

Despite their stated desire for him to stay out of their way, or his personal wish for the same, when he arose the next morning he found a note on the outside of his door with a ridiculously long list of tasks that these people apparently expected him to complete for them. By no means was he unaware of physical labor or the usual payment for room and board, but still they had made an agreement that had never once brought the mention of chores into it, so he was not about to do a single one of these.

Instead, he ignored the note completely, and after dressing in some of the more nonmagical styled clothing that he had, closed the door and left the house completely, eager to try out his ability to get to Diagon Alley on his own. He most certainly wasn't going to use the method that Dumbledore mentioned, as it was highly likely that it was either a lie or some sort of means to keep an eye on him.

Moving to a secluded area where no one would be able to easily see him, Nobu'tan concentrated, tapping into what Ley Lines were nearby and connected to the ones leading back to Hogwarts. it was significantly more difficult here, the nearest line miles away and thus requiring that he take a great deal of time to get the power for this spell. Nobu'tan focused on his destination, one of the small side alleys near the goblin bank, and carefully moved his hand through the air, drawing out the rune of transportation.

With the sound of rushing wind the scene around him of drab and boring houses dissolved, soon replaced with the magical marketplace in a sudden explosion of light and sound. He landed gently on the cobblestones of Diagon, and looked around, smiling to himself. Teleportation wasn't so bad after all. He had momentarily worried that it would feel just like the wizard's method, which was extremely unpleasant.

Checking on how much withdrawn funds he had with him told Nobu'tan that he did indeed need to visit that bank again and replenish his supplies from the last time he had come, so that was his first destination. To the surprise of some of the other humans entering the bank alongside Nobu'tan, the goblin guards actually turned and nodded at him as he passed, the gesture returned by the orc raised human.

Apparently having the goblin's respect was something significant to these humans; although sarcastically Nobu'tan wondered if it was possible for such a weak race to fully comprehend the warrior traditions of either the orc clans or these goblins. Musing as he waiting in the long line, he wondered if that was part of the reason that the Horde and Alliance had fought so fiercely back in Azeroth. It seemed plausible, if not probably, as the Horde for one had never bothered to understand the humans, but naturally Nobu'tan understood their reasoning, they needed to have the world's land to survive, as their home world, Draenor, was dying.

From what he had gathered from his time in Dalaran however, Nobu'tan guessed that the humans had made no such attempts to understand the Horde either however, so he had little sympathy for his own race in that regard. The wizards of the Violet Citadel had thought the orcs mindless monsters that simply gloried in destruction and death, which while true for a few clans, Nobu'tan thought of the Burning Blade, Twilight Hammer and Warsong Clans as examples, the rest simply wanted to stake out a claim for their people to live, and following the Warchief and Gul'dan's orders were means to that end.

No, the humans were in the wrong, even if it had been their lands that the orcs invaded, as they could easily have tried to reach out the hand of friendship and understand what the orcs wanted, but instead they had reacted with violence, which started the cycle of hatred that had been in full swing when Nobu'tan was ripped from Quel'Thalas and Gul'dan by the unforeseeable circumstances that had happened between the Grand Warlock and Archmage Kel'Thuzad.

The line finally had trimmed down to the point where Nobu'tan was next, and when the teller called for him, the people were surprised when the little goblin hopped down from his lofty chair to speak to Nobu'tan face to face, like an equal instead of towering over him. "How might we of Gringotts help you today, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked, baring his teeth in what amounted to one warrior greeting another.

Replying in like manner, despite how awkward it was for a human mouth to replicate the gesture, Nobu'tan bowed his head slightly, recognizing the Goblin's older age as a veteran while he himself was still, in their eyes, a green warrior. "I need to withdraw some more funds from my vault for resupply."

"Of course Mr. Potter, right this way," the teller said, abandoning his post, and the line that started grumbling immediately, and led Nobu'tan to the same row of offices that he had visited on his previous trip, "Manager Badrod will take care of any other needs you have while we bring up a withdrawal from your trust vault for you, Mr. Potter." The teller said, gesturing for Nobu'tan to enter before turning to walk back to the large line of wizards waiting for him.

Badrod the goblin was behind his desk when Nobu'tan entered, but set aside the parchment he was reading and leaned forward excitedly as the warlock entered, "Ah, Mr. Potter, we were hoping for you to arrive back inside our walls soon, and… without entourage…" he added, glancing around Nobu'tan, looking for acknowledgement that he was indeed alone.

"Yes… although throwing off my watchers was rather difficult, so I may be short on time," Nobu'tan lied, hoping that it would get the goblin's straight to the point and avoid needless haggling. If these were anything more like those goblins of Azeroth, he would be mired down in their wheedling for this or that within an hour and never be able to leave the bank.

"Yes, well, then we'll make sure to get to the heart of the matter we wished to discuss with you quickly, then." Badrod said, gesturing for the chair opposite him, which Nobu'tan took cautiously, still awaiting some… something that would prevent him from leaving and going about his business that he originally came to complete.

"It has been far too long, and Gringotts is very pleased to be able to discharge what last wishes of the late Lord and Lady Potter that were documented… or that is what I'd like nothing better to be able to say to you, young Heir Potter…" the goblin started, glowering at the parchment that he had picked up as he began.

"And why ever can you not say that?" Nobu'tan asked, his concern abating slightly. If the goblins were angry at some other circumstance, then it appeared they were on his side of things, and that meant that they were less likely to try and harm or hinder him in his plans. Perhaps he could swing things the right way and gain powerful allies here to help him prepare the way for the Legion.

"Mainly because the vast majority of their preparations centered around who would be named your guardian in the event of their deaths. All assets were part of the Potter estate and thusly would go in full to you upon your seventeenth birthday, so there is nothing that has to be done regarding wealth or property. Until your majority it will stay in stasis, managed by the bank for you."

Well that was no big surprise, considered what species Nobu'tan was speaking to. Naturally the goblins would want to be able to make as much profit off his inheritance as they could before having to give it back, but he really didn't care, "and so, what were the terms regarding guardianship, and why are they unable to be fulfilled?"

"There was a short list of persons that were to take up the role of guardian, but in one shape or another they are incapable or deemed unfit to care for you, in order of priority they were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lord and Lady Longbottom, and finally Peter Pettigrew…" Badrod said, glancing once at the parchment again…

"And the reasons none of these people could take me?" Nobu'tan urged, not caring particularly but wanting the goblin to get over with it so he could leave.

"Sirius Black is currently imprisoned in Azkaban for murdering Peter Pettigrew and betraying the secret location of your parents to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Remus Lupin is a registered Werewolf and therefore deemed unfit to be a guardian under Ministry of Magic edicts, and both Lord and Lady Longbottom are confined to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies for an indefinite period due to spell induced insanity." The goblin recited, seeming having waited to dump this massive amount of information on Nobu'tan all at once and watch his reaction.

The young warlock paused for a moment, considering, "Well, I suppose that's most unfortunate, but as I was raised in an undisclosed location, it matters very little as none of these people would have had the opportunity to raise me even if they had been capable. Was that all you had for me, or is there something else?"

The goblin looked pleased, as though not expecting the reaction and finding it favorable to what was originally anticipated. "No, Mr. Potter, that's all we needed to know." Passing over a bag of gold from somewhere unknown, the goblin bid him farewell, and Nobu'tan didn't know whether to curse himself for letting any information, however discreet, slip or just be thankful that he had escape with most of the day intact.

Leaving the bank as fast as he could, Nobu'tan paused at a small bench and relaxed as he planned his shopping route. First and foremost, he would have to get some sort of container to hold all of his items, as he had not brought his trunk, and in any case it would be far too large and cumbersome to drag around. Finding such a shop proved simple, and within twenty minutes Nobu'tan had a messenger bag that had charms woven into the leather to make it feather light and greatly expanded inside, with several compartments for separating things.

Thinking of the list he had mentally prepared, Nobu'tan figured he'd need to get food first of all, as per his arrangement with the Dursley's he had to feed himself. There were long lines and many other shoppers around the grocers of Diagon, but Nobu'tan pushed his way between the large women that were getting food for their families and found quite a few easy to prepare ingredients. He wasn't the best at cooking, but it was close enough in process to alchemy or potionmaking back in Hogwarts that the skills should transfer over without too many dissimilarities.

After gathering enough food for three weeks, Nobu'tan slipped out of the madhouse that was the grocer, and returned to the more interesting parts of his shopping excursion. Parchment, quills, and basic ink were purchased, along with resupplying his potion's kit, just in case he was indeed forced back to the school for another year, and Nobu'tan bought a great deal of herbs that he could use for basic Alchemy and Inscription inks, smiling as he found even some of the more difficult to harvest specimens that he recognized.

He was even luck enough to find a copper rod and several high magical trinkets at low prices that he might be able to begin touching on enchanting with, breaking down the baubles into magical dust and pure magic essence to reimbue other benefits onto items in his possession.

A visit to Madam Malkin's also garnered him several outfits of both muggle and wizarding design, so that he had more than just a simple school uniform to wear, which would probably help make the Dursleys leave him alone just a touch more, not that he would have to endure their presence for much longer.

Strolling up the length of the Alley after his necessities were all purchased, Nobu'tan was distracted by a strange tingle in the magic of the marketplace, emanating from one of the shadier side alleys. The sign above it read Knockturn Alley, and the young warlock could definitely feel the presence of demonic magic somewhere deep in the cramped cluster of buildings. Unable to resist the pull of familiar magic, Nobu'tan started down the strange and decrepit street, ignoring those who stared at him as he passed.

This was clearly a place ill suited for children, but Nobu'tan was unafraid of anything these fools could attempt to do to him. even when one of the rougher looking people moved to get in his way, the orc raised human merely raised a hand and let fel magic flow freely, conjuring a orb of shadows that sent the burly man scurrying backward in fear.

After that none dared to challenge his presence in the alley, and Nobu'tan was able to pinpoint the sources of demon magic. Sources, as it turned out that there were multiple small places around the alley that bore signs of demonic magic, although the majority were sadly nothing more than useless trinkets that held the taint of some dark wizard that had touched Void-based magic at one time or another, and were therefore useless to the warlock.

Disappointed, Nobu'tan went to the final location that held any sign of fel magic, not expecting to find anything of worth, until he realized that he had walked into a dusty book shop, filled to the brim with tomes and scrolls in various stages of age. In the midst of the mess somewhere, glowed a small portion of fel magic, and Nobu'tan felt his excitement grow slightly as he hoped that there might be some useful item buried in the store.

"Are you lost, little boy?" murmured the old crone the came out of the back, looking down her hooked nose at him as he started to shift through the cluttered piles of parchment.

Ignoring the unimportant shopkeeper, Nobu'tan continued his search, shifting aside large piles of parchment at a time, knowing that he was getting closer to his goal, before the old crone tried to stop him physically, "There's nothing in here for you, now…" she stopped when he turned to glare at her, the dark power of the Void welling up inside him, transforming his eye color to a deep crimson state. The candles in the shop flickered madly, causing the shadows in the room to dance. Dust was thrown into the air, and the ancient floorboards creaked and groaned as magic started to fill the room.

The woman released him, and Nobu'tan dispelled the building magic in him, saying nothing as he returned to perusing the various scrolls before him. The crone seemed to know what he was after, and flicked her wand, summoning a decrepit and yellowed scroll from the bottom of a pile. Nobu'tan took it instantly, unrolling it and making certain if it was of any use to him. The demonic writing glowed with sinister green and red light, and the warlock smiled as he realized what he held. Digging through a pocket, he dropped a small handful of silver on the floor as he turned to leave.

Exiting the side alley swiftly, Nobu'tan checked the time in one of the store windows, and recognized that he probably should start heading back to the disgustingly bland muggle household for the approaching evening. Finding a small nook that was hard to observe, he thought of the muggle backyard, allowing himself to slip through space once again and return to the drab boringness of his relative's house.

Landing between the shed and the back fence, Nobu'tan made sure he was unobserved as he crossed the lawn and reentered the house, removing and stowing his cloak in his expanded bag before entering so his clothing looked rather mundane.

His Aunt was in the kitchen, and called for the robust form of Vernon Dursley the moment that Nobu'tan entered. "So…" the man said angrily, stomping toward him, "So... You think that you can just ignore the chores that we ask of you in return you putting a roof over your ungrateful head, do you?" he said angrily, but the warlock was not having any of it.

"I'm sorry, but that was not part of the original deal," Nobu'tan replied sharply, "No mention of extended lists of chores were ever mentioned in our bargain, merely that we leave each other alone for the short duration of my stay, and thus far I am held my end of that deal. I have been gone all day, and purchased my own food to cook and prepare for myself. Attempting to force me to do labor for you is, as I see it, violating your part of the bargain to simply leave me alone until I leave at the end of the month."

The man started turning various shades of purple in his rage. Clearly the man was of the opinion that he could order anyone around as he pleased, without any thought or care to their own free will. "I suppose that you could just write to Dumbledore and tell him that I will not be staying here," Nobu'tan offered, "but meanwhile I will be leaving of my own accord, as I refuse for that man to try and imprison me somewhere else instead. Feel free to try and explain how I 'slipped' away while under your care…"

"Fine… fine!" the man said, throwing up his hands irritably, turning to storm out of the room.

"Two more things…" Nobu'tan said pleasantly, forcing the man to face him again. "First, when will you be finished with your evening meal, as I would like to use your cooking station to prepare my food for the week, I will naturally clean and replace anything that I use," the man nodded, seeing it as acceptable, "and second, do I look normal enough dressed like this for you?" Nobu'tan raised his arms and turned in a slow circle, letting them all see his new clothing from the magical marketplace.

"It will do…" the man said angrily, clearly wanting nothing more to do with the warlock. His wife though seemed to have a more critical eye for such things, and hesitantly took a step forward, "You got those in the magical market didn't you," she said hotly, "they're a decade old in style, but you could be ignored in some circles…"

"I see… where could I go to find some clothing that is more modern then?" Nobu'tan asked, honestly seeking their opinion about how to blend in to their standards.

"Well, as you clearly don't expect us to clothe you, I know a few places…" Petunia said, glancing once at her husband's retreating form as the whale of a man returned to the living room. "If you could show me a map or picture of the place I can get there myself, although any assistance at all would be acceptable…" Nobu'tan said, bowing slightly at the waist.

The woman sniffed once, then returned to her work, "We'll be done eating in about an hour, you may use the kitchen after that." she said.

"Thank you…" Nobu'tan replied, turning to return to his room and organize the purchases he had made.

If things were going to be this tense for the time he had to dwell here, Nobu'tan thought, it would probably be far easier if he just left for the Malfoy's far earlier than expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus had wasted no time from the moment Harry had been left at his Aunt and Uncle's home in Little Whinging, but had immediately apparated back to the quiet village of Godric's Hollow. He had precious little time to really get up to his elbows in investigating what had exactly happened to Harry to keep him out of the Wizarding World for so long, and where he might have been whisked off to.

As this was the first location that he had seen the boy when he had reappeared, Albus figured that a thorough search of the abandoned and ruined house might yield some small clue, but it was a desperate hope that he clung to. Nevertheless, Albus dutifully strode to the spacious cottage turned war memorial, and pushed past the gate and entered the front room.

It always pained the old Headmaster, seeing Lily and James' happy home in this state. The memories of entering this same door not ten years ago, filled with warmth and happiness of the young couple and their one year old baby boy, full of joy and a steak of mischievousness that put smiles on everyone's faces flashed through his mind. All the ruined furniture had some delightful memory to it, and Albus lovingly stroked the arm of a charred and partially obliterated chair that had been his personal favorite to sit in when he was invited to visit.

"I promise you both," Albus said, his thoughts drifting to the two Potters who were currently buried in the same village, "I will do everything in my power to make this right." And turning from the front room, he continued his search.

With wand held high to cast light throughout the house, Albus inspected everything, noting the places that seemed the most disturbed. There were shifts in the layers of dust where someone had been walking, nearly a year ago, and the Headmaster could only assume that Harry had been exploring the house as well when Albus had first found the boy.

The kitchen was untouched, although it seemed that Harry had stood in the doorway and looked at it before heading upstairs, a second time apparently by the path of the footprints. The boy had then gone into the bathroom, and either used the facilities or merely examined them, Albus wasn't certain which.

But there was something that caught his attention; on the floor near the sink was a small, white stone that seemed to have been dropped as the boy bolted from the room in haste. Albus could only guess that it had been when he himself had arrived to find Harry. The stone only had a thin layer of dust, compared to the rest of the floor, which lent much to Albus' suspicions that Harry had indeed dropped it.

There was also a rune inscribed onto the stone in a bluish color, and the aged wizard found that it was the same style of writing that the boy had first used when they had met in this house. It took a few moments of study to grasp that the word was something akin to 'Home' in meaning. There was also a trace level of ambient magic about the item, although after a year of disuse it was extremely faint.

Pocketing the strange clue, Albus turned to explore the rest of the upstairs. The guestroom was untouched, its door still closed, while the Master Bedroom had only the single path of footprints where the boy had run to where Albus had originally found him, and it seemed that they boy had not had time to do much before he had arrived, which left only the nursery.

The footsteps from this room seemed to indicate that this was where Harry had first arrived, a large patch of dust having been blown away where the boy had apparently landed quite heavily, just in front of the crib that bore him as a baby.

What was most curious was that there was no means of explanation as to how Harry had come to appear there, although the faint magical aura remained in the room from the transportation. It seemed somewhat familiar to Albus, but he couldn't place it until he casually put his hands into his robe pockets to think, brushing against the stone he had picked up. Pulling it out, he was struck with the similarities of the two magical signatures, and realized that whatever magic the stone had or possessed still, was the means of travel that Harry had taken, somewhat like a Portkey.

At least one question was answered now, even if it spawned a slew of questions in its wake. The stone did not feel like any Portkey that Albus had created or handled, but nevertheless he was convinced that it was indeed how Harry had been transported here, to his first home…

Looking up through the blasted ceiling of the nursery, Albus wondered what had gone through the poor boy's mind when he arrived in the dilapidated cottage. No doubt he was afraid, angry perhaps, and very confused. But just where had the boy come from, there were so many unknowns to this mystery that it made Albus' head hurt just to think of it.

Sadly, he turned and left the room, making his way carefully back outside. There seemed to be nothing left for the old building to tell him regarding Harry's arrival, but the clue he had indeed helped.

Apparating to Hogsmeade, Albus sought out the cool reflective taste of one of his brother's ales in the Hog's Head, and even though Aberforth wanted little to do with his older brother, the man was still willing to take his gold in exchange for a large firewhiskey to help smooth out the headache that had come from too much deep and strenuous thought.

Even as he drank, Albus couldn't shake the thought that something was missing, either from his investigation or any of the explanations that Harry had grudgingly given him regarding his unique abilities, his background, or just about anything he had spoken to the boy about. If only there was a way for Albus to get the boy to trust him, then perhaps he'd willingly confess where he had been, and confirm whether Merlin himself had been teaching him powerful ancient magic or not.

Albus felt that this was the most reasonable probability, and even still it was stretching for something that highly likely was nowhere near the truth. He truly hated puzzles sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius had been only mildly surprised when less than a week into the summer holiday; Draco had received a reply from Mr. Potter requesting the lad to come and stay at the manor far earlier than they had originally expected. According to the boy, there were several complicated issues regarding his currently household that were best discussed in person, if at all, and Lucius wondered what madness that Dumbledore had placed Potter into.

Normally he would have refused, prioritizing his and Narcissa's precious time with their son alone, but with the combination of the thoughts and suspicions he had regarding young Potter, and the urgent and pleading tone that the decently written note implied, as well as approval from his wife, Lucius agreed to forward the Portkey with Draco's next letter, scheduling Potter's arrival for the middle of the second week of summer, just in case the owl was delayed.

That was why, a few days later, he and his family were waiting in the main hall as the clock ticked down the last few minutes before the Portkey was to activate, to welcome the boy into their home for the second time. Lucius was interested to see what the boy's supposed magic was like, as Draco had been all but silent regarding what it was or how it was performed, citing that he had no authority to share Potter's secrets.

When the appointed time arrived, a vortex of blue energy appeared in the center of the hall, over the large crest of the Malfoy family, carrying the young wizard until he touched down surprisingly gracefully for what Lucius had guessed might be his first experience of travel by Portkey.

Wearing robes of a deep royal blue, with black satin trim and onyx stones embroidering the collar, Potter turned to them and bowed respectfully as the three Malfoy's approached. "Thank you for allowing me to come so much earlier than planned," he said immediately, "and I apologize for any inconveniences my selfishness caused."

Pleased by the lad's manners, Narcissa was the first to address him, "It was no trouble for us, dear boy, and please feel at home here." As his wife summoned a house elf to take care of Potter belongings, Lucius approached, and shook the boy's hand cautiously. He was surprised to note the deep calluses that covered the palm and fingers, as well as the sheer strength that was in the young boy's grip. It spoke of a life of hard manual labor, which for a wizard was strange, if not normally looked down upon.

"It is a pleasure to have one of Draco's close friends with us during the holidays," Lucius said coolly, choosing to look past some of the outward signs that the boy might be less than he anticipated, and postponed his judgment for the time being.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Malfoy, I assure you." Potter replied, eyes glinting with magical power as he spoke.

"Come, I'm sure that the elves have a meal prepared for us already, and there must be much for us all to discuss," Lucius said, escorting Potter toward the smaller, intimate dining room rather than the massive hall that was used for banquets. Knowing what little he did from Draco, intimidation was not the route that would be effective in getting Potter to open up, but rather mutual openness and even a small amount of trust would go much farther.

"You mentioned in your letter that the other family set by Dumbledore to watch you for the summer were being somewhat difficult…" Lucius started after they sat and were served the midday meal by the elves.

The boy frowned slightly at some recent memory, "I was placed with my own muggle relatives…" he said, which spread the frown around the table, "from my mother's side of my family, but it just wouldn't work out. They were already set in their ways of closing their eyes to magic and apparently had to be threatened by Dumbledore to take me in the first place. Three solid arguments in as many days over them trying to change their own rules so they could make me do whatever they wanted was too much, which is why I wrote to you so quickly."

"What were these rules you spoke of?" Narcissa asked, and Lucius mutually agreed that he wanted to know the exact reasons that Potter had elected to leave.

"Well, when I first set foot in their house, we together set up a working agreement," the boy started, "I would stay out of their way and vice versus. I was to take care of my own food in exchange for using their extra bedroom, and I would leave as soon as possible, that being the original time that we had agreed upon. However not one day later they tried to change the rules by giving me a list of chores that would have had me working the entire day to complete, doing what amounted to household servant work: washing, cleaning, cooking, etc. Naturally I wasn't about to do any of that, as it was not part of the original agreement, so I went out to Diagon as I had originally planned for that day, to get all the things I knew I would need for coming here and the next year."

Lucius nodded, agreeing silently. That was the correct action that he would have taken himself. If these relatives had not mentioned chores up front, then it was expected that they did not want Potter to do any of them, to suddenly change their mind was disrespectful to the intelligent, albeit young, man that had taken up residence with them.

"When I returned in the evening, having stayed out of their way the entire day, they had the audacity to call me ungrateful and rant and rave that I ought to have done all the things on their list. I calmly refused, reciting that it was not part of the agreement for me to become, in effect, their servant, and went to my room, only returning when they had finished their evening meal to prepare and eat my own, cleaning everything that I used as I promised them at the time. The next day, the same thing happened, a new list of chores with the added threats of a punishment if they were not completed."

Lucius furrowed his brow; these relatives must have been dense, even by muggle standards to think the same tactic would work after it had not once already. "Naturally I can assume that you rightly refused to be their maid a second time," he said, to which the boy nodded.

"That evening my Uncle thought he was within his right to try and deny me food or even send me to my room, which I calmly reminded him that I was not a child under their roof, but a temporary guest, and if they had had anything they wished me to do, they ought to have requested it like one would a guest, and not demanded it like one would to a child. As I was already preparing my own food, he had no right to try and steal what was mine, nor had he the right to force me from his presence, although I willingly departed from it soon afterward." He explained further.

Lucius was starting to feel a headache appearing on his brow, the disgust of muggles deepening as he listened. "That was when I sent the letter to you, requesting to be allowed an escape from that house as soon as possible, as the next day my Uncle stayed at their home, and actually tried to prevent me from leaving, demanding that I do the chores a third time before I was _allowed_ to leave for the day. Well, I most certainly had had enough." Potter replied, trailing off as he remembered something with a smirk.

Lucius had some inclination as to what may have happened afterward, "Should we expect a Ministry owl to appear sometime, reprimanding you for use of magic?" he asked, but the boy shook his head.

"No, no, I merely threatened the man with great violence and unleashing my magic if he continued to harass me, but I think the knife that I planted halfway through their dining room table was the lynchpin that finally silenced him." Potter replied with a wicked grin.

Draco laughed, and even Lucius smirked a bit at the mental image of some great filthy muggle gaping as the small wizard slammed a bladed weapon through the thick wooden table, most likely amid the shuddering of various objects that would normally precede accidental magic. "Well, I understand your position entirely then," Narcissa said, rising from her finished plate, "and you are more than welcome to come straight here in future for all your holiday vacations. I cannot bear to think of anyone being so mistreated, especially by muggles…"

"Thank you," Potter replied, bowing his head slightly as he too rose alongside Draco and Lucius to see the lady of the house from the room. Once she had gone the men retook their seats, and the conversation drifted around a few subjects such as Hogwarts and Quidditch, mainly between the two boys while Lucius looked at a few letters and the paper that was brought by a House elf.

After a short time however, Lucius' curiosity finally won the battle within him, and he decided it was time to breach the subject he so desperately wanted answers for. "So," he started slowly, in the lull between the boy's conversations, "Draco has grown quite a bit since he first left for Hogwarts last year, and from what I can gather, it is in large part due to something you showed him Mr. Potter…"

The reaction was almost instant. The boy froze, watching Lucius' every movement, only once flickering to Draco with a cold look that almost screamed betrayal. Lucius shifted slightly to draw the boy's attention back instead, "Naturally Draco has told me nothing, but it is plain to see, as his parent, that he has changed since meeting you, and I would be greatly interested to see what _skills_ you have shared with my son that have brought him so much closer to the man that I always wanted him to become…"

Draco beamed at the praise, but Lucius kept his eyes on Potter, knowing that the boy was probably somewhere between wanting to attack Lucius and attempt to escape, or trying to puzzle how similar he was going to be to Dumbledore. "And if I said there was no real secret that I shared with Draco?" he responded slowly, calculating.

"I would know that you are lying," Lucius responded carefully, "As it is clear from Dumbledore's treatment of you that there is something about you that he fears. And if it's something that the great Headmaster of Hogwart's fears, then I deeply desire to know all about it, to see whether the man is justified or just as out of his mind as normal…"

The boy seemed quite unconvinced, so Lucius tried another tactic, "How much do you know about my family, Mr. Potter?" he asked, turning back to his meal for a moment or two.

"Aside from what little Draco has told me, next to nothing," the boy replied honestly.

"Then allow me to inform you of some of the truth of our recent history, The Dark Lord, the same that killed your family, came to many of the pureblood households in the early stages of the war, back when my father Abraxas Malfoy was head of the family, and demanded their loyalty to his cause. He promised many things, power, wealth, a retaking of our heritage from the encroaching muggleborns and their supporters, among other things. My father was enthralled with the Dark Lord, and eagerly took the man's mark, becoming his servant. And when I was old enough, I too took the mark, although at the time I had little idea what I was truly joining myself to."

Pausing to brush his lips with a napkin, Lucius continued, "The Dark Lord was powerful, yes, but as I soon found out he was quite insane, ready to slaughter purebloods along with muggleborns, or whoever else stood in his way. To say that it was an enjoyable time of my life would indeed be lying. At the end of the war, when Draco was only a year old, I truly lived in fear of the man myself, knowing that in time he would demand my only child to serve him."

Potter was listening, and Lucius sighed once as he continued, "But then the business in Godric's Hollow occurred, and you banished the man from the world, indeed freeing myself and many such forced servants to his madness. Many of those would even now renounce the Dark Lord, but we still fear he may rise again, as he was fond of telling his followers how he had even surpassed death itself. A decade of fear, wherein you had disappeared and so had he. But now," and Lucius paused to look directly into the emerald green eyes, "We might have found our new leader who can protect us from even the Dark Lord."

Potter waited a few moments, internalizing the information, while Draco sat there, struggling to keep his mouth from hanging open. "You mean to say," Potter started slowly, "that you wish to follow me, in exchange for defense if you old master returns…"

"That would be the start of it, I believe," Lucius confirmed, nodding slowly, "We'd have to have a formal discussion with the others who would enter into this alliance, but as a groundwork that would be the primary connection."

Potter thought for a long moment, before nodding, "I would be agreeable to meeting with the others, and hearing out what their conditions are."

"Excellent," Lucius said, mentally checking off one of his objectives for the boy, "I will gladly make the necessary arrangements, however I can assure you that the others would also want a demonstration of your powers upfront, to know whether our trust is well placed in you. It would be easier if I can vouch for your abilities beforehand, which should pacify some of the more volatile ones to meeting with you."

"What they say is true then…" Potter said, smirking, "if you want someone cunning and poisonous as a viper, ask a Malfoy." Sighing to himself as he pushed away an empty plate, Potter stood, "I agree to your conditions, show me where I can utilize my magic without causing any unwanted damage."

"This way," Lucius said, standing and willingly guiding Potter and his son out of the dining room and toward a ground floor dueling chamber, normally reserved for petty offenses or other old fashioned infractions that demanded trial by combat. The room was mostly disused these days as the practice had fallen out of favor during Lucius' father's days, and had thus been merely standing by idly for someone to use the room.

Once inside, and after bolting and magically locking the door, Lucius gestured for Potter to proceed whenever ready. Taking a deep breath, the boy settled onto the floor for several moments, seeming to meditate before anything. "The wards here are strong, Mr. Malfoy, stronger than I had anticipated, your Ley Lines are perfectly positioned for my use…" the boy said cryptically, which surprised the Malfoy Patriarch. Very few, if any, wizards were able to sense wards, let alone the Ley Lines that powered his manors.

Inhaling sharply, Potter launched to his feet, throwing an arm forward to gesture at a target on the far side of the room, and Lucius gasped as a blast of some dark, shadow-like magic was expelled from the boy's outstretched hand, striking the metal target with the sound of a gong, and cracking the enchanted metal with the force of its impact.

"Magnificent…" Lucius breathed, tasting the Dark Magic that the spell had been comprised of, raw and pure. Potter continued, switching to a fire-based attack that seemed similar in construction to fiendfyre, although far more controlled and reeking of a slightly different brand of dark magic than the former. As the boy continued to demonstrate his abilities, Lucius had already made his decision. Potter was indeed powerful, and with the right assistance could easily overcome the Dark Lord again if the madman returned. House Malfoy could easily fill that need.


	16. C15: Servants of the Beautiful One

**Strange, I had thought I posted this chapter already, but it must be because it always felt like a part 2 to the previous one in my mind. regardless its new to you, my readers, so it must go up! enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 **Servants of the Beautiful One**

Draco wasn't sure as to why his father was so overwhelmingly interested in Harry or their abilities, but it had to be a good thing for his father to be smiling as widely as Harry showed off his various and powerful warlock abilities, tapping into the lines of power that ran under the manor.

Draco would have joined in, but he was far too consumed trying to understand all that his father had revealed to Harry, and to Draco as well for the first time, about his involvement with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. Draco had known that their family was considered supporters of the man, but he had never guessed that it was all due to his grandfather's desires, having only met the old wizard once before he died of dragon pox.

Still, hearing the truth was actually more reassuring then Draco thought it would be, especially if Lucius thought that Harry could actually protect them if the madman returned to power somehow. He also had several guesses as to which pureblood families that his father was referring to when he mentioned 'others,' primarily the Notts, but assuredly the majority of old supporters that had children in Hogwarts would be among those who'd rather not have their children enslaved to the Dark Lord if he were to return.

After around twenty minutes of Harry happily running through his many spells and abilities, the boy finally stopped, turning to face then with his imp balanced on his shoulder. Slowly, Lucius started to clap, but it soon ended as Harry reached them, "I am most decidedly impressed, Mr. Potter," Lucius said, still grinning, "You are indeed as powerful as I guessed when you first set foot in my home last Yule. I will be more than pleased to forward a report of your strength to the others who would be free of the Dark Lord."

"That's good," Harry said, "Although I have one request of you."

"What might that be?" Lucius said, and Draco could already hear the wheels spinning in his father's mind, hoping to try and buy a little more position and power for himself.

"I need to visit the massive stone circle of the ancient druids that is somewhere near here, Stonehenge I recall it being called." Harry said.

"I can easily make arrangements for a small trip out to the old stone circle; however I myself have one stipulation for such a side adventure." Lucius replied, grinning even as Harry frowned.

"And that would be," Draco heard his friend ask cautious, as though he already guessed what was coming.

"Teach me how to utilize that wondrous dark magic you just displayed." Lucius said, his desire clear from the look of greed in his eyes, "It would be a massive boost to out families' alliance for such a sharing of secrets, and I'm sure that you're already teaching my son, so what would one more be in your lessons?"

Harry paused for a long time at that, and Draco could already see the internal struggle playing out behind the emerald eyes. Harry had at one point mentioned that Dumbledore was very persistent in knowing what magic exactly that Harry could perform, and after the incident at the second Quidditch match of the year, Draco could understand exactly why. It also explained then why his father was so desperate to learn it himself. If Dumbledore wanted the knowledge, and was currently being denied it, then Lucius Malfoy wanted the opportunity to take hold of some mystery that the Headmaster was as of yet unaware of, especially when it yielded power as what Draco and Theodore were already learning.

"I suppose I can allow you to learn alongside Draco and Theodore for the duration of the summer, Mr. Malfoy, as thank you for all that you are doing for me…" Harry said eventually, although he still looked highly conflicted about the prospect.

"Well, I suppose that means that I ought to send an invitation to young Mr. Nott to come for the summer holiday as well I suppose," Lucius said, the smirk on his face betraying the true excitement that lay within. Knowing his father as he did, and how well the man masked his emotions, Draco was surprised that so much already was openly revealed around Harry, a near total stranger to their family aside from Draco himself.

Bowing to excuse himself from the room, Lucius departed, probably to draft several letters to various acquaintances as well as Theodore's father, and Harry finally relaxed once they were alone. Dismissing the imp with a wave of his hand, he sighed, "That went better than I expected it to…" he commented idly, and Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"How did you expect it to turn out?" he asked, as Harry made for the door as well.

"Well, I expected your father to demand quite a bit more than he did, more along the lines of what dear Headmaster Dumbledore was doing, but it seems that your father is far more concerned about protecting his current state of luxury, which I don't disagree with in the slightest. If one is not strong enough to keep what they have, then they do not deserve it, and there is no shame in desiring to be stronger. But in Dumbledore's case, he wants to learn my power to better control me, which I cannot allow to happen. The bargain with Lucius, and even these others that he's mentioned is far more agreeable to me than signing my effective prison sentence in that castle."

"Ah," Draco replied, only partially understanding, but accepting that whatever Harry meant was good and real to him. "Would you like to tour around the manor, or unpack in your guest room first?" he asked as they stood in the main entrance hall.

"There's a few things I'd like to check on that I brought, so probably unpack first, then a tour would be lovely." The boy replied, and Draco eagerly led his friend up the large marble staircase to the third floor, where the bedrooms were located. The guest wing was in the opposite direction of the family's bedrooms, as the manor was built after an old medieval design that kept guests away from their hosts for protection, when one never knew who might try to betray or assassinate them, but Harry's was the first door down the corridor, and therefore the closest to the rest of the manor.

Inside the house elves had already prepared the large four-poster bed with navy blue hangings and linens, as well as setting out the trunk and messenger bag where they were easily accessible. Harry went to the trunk first, casually waving his wand after drawing it from his sleeve, which caused the door to the walk in wardrobe to spring open, and started to casually place his clothing into the piece of furniture.

After that had been accomplished, the boy started arranging far more interesting items around the room. The large bay window that overlooked the grounds around the manor had a ledge just inside of it, and Harry took out and carefully placed several racks of empty vials and other potioneering equipment, even setting up a small cauldron in front of the window, before crossing to the small personal desk in the room and laying out stacks of blank parchment, a strange copper rod with markings and rune carved into it, the glowed periodically when Harry touched it.

The boy then maneuvered his trunk to be between the window and the desk, and set the messenger bag on the chair that went with the desk, clearly mentally checking that everything was in a proper place before turning back to Draco, "All right, I'm ready for this tour of yours." He said, not once explaining what he had been up to.

"Uh… alright," Draco said, wanting nothing more than to ask a thousand and one questions right not about why Harry had placed out these things, but instead allowing himself to be distracted by showing Harry around the public and informal areas of the manor. He explained that there were a select few sections that he could not show Harry, as there were rooms that were for only the family, as a sort of respite from others, but the other boy seemed perfectly fine with the concept, more pleased to see the massive library that the manor sported. Rightly so in fact, as the room was easily twice the size of the Hogwart's library, covering two floors with plenty of room for study in the high back, cushioned chairs and tables in the very center.

Outside was also a highpoint of the tour, as Draco showed off the extensive grounds that were meticulously taken care of by the house elves, as well as the small selection of magical animals that were kept on the property, and the horrid albino peacocks that Lucius kept around for some reason. Draco had had a horrible experience with the birds as a small child, and had grown to both fear and hate them ever afterward.

But what Harry truly seemed to enjoy was the view of the surrounding wide countryside that the family owned, which lay for miles in every direction around the property. "Your wards don't cover it though, so how to you keep muggles and other creatures from taking up residence?" he asked, but Draco actually had an answer for him on that, "We have a few small dealings with other wizards, who work for us in protecting the property, and act as go betweens with the muggles, making sure that they understand that its private property and to not trespass. Every so often the rule is ignored, but it's not like they can see the manor anyway, and if they get themselves killed by the creatures in the woods, doesn't really affect us does it?"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't…" Harry replied, smirking to himself as he look out to the northwest part of the property, "Stonehenge is that way, isn't it?" he asked, and Draco didn't have to guess how the boy knew. He had been able to sense the powerful buildup of magic since Harry had awakened him to the magic of the world and the Twisted Nether at Hogwarts. "Yes," he responded, before pausing, "what do you expect to find there when we go to visit it?"

"Answers, hopefully, if not direction on how to get home…" Harry responded honestly, even though Draco wasn't sure what the boy meant by 'home.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan quite enjoyed his time in Malfoy Manor, the relaxing atmosphere starkly contrasting to the madness of the muggles he had been placed with by Archmage Dumbledore. The massive house was about eighty percent open to him to explore at his leisure, and he ended up spending a majority of his time sifting through the many tomes and volumes in the massive library.

Most of the time Draco was with him, as Lucius spent the majority of his time in his personal office, off limits to Nobu'tan, presumably continuing correspondence with those whom he wanted the young warlock to meet with, and the orc-raised human had no idea where the lady of the House, Narcissa, had disappeared to, but he was less concerned about his hosts as he was the small scroll that he had acquired shortly before coming to the Wiltshire dwelling.

After having extensively studied the fiendish writing, some combination of fel runes and the wizarding Latin, Nobu'tan had happily discovered that it was the required ritual to summon forth a new kind of demon, the Felhunter. The voracious little canine-like demon would be a welcome addition to Nobu'tan servants, but the dangers that were involved with summoning such a creature were high.

Felhunters were notoriously used by the Burning Legion to fight and kill mages and magic users of all kinds, so Nobu'tan would instantly be at a disadvantage against one, he would have to rely all the more on his other servants to fight with him, keeping the hound's attention away from trying to rip the magic straight from his body.

Then there was the presence of the other magical in the house to worry about, if he summoned and fought the felhunter here, he would have to make sure that it was in an enclosed area, where the beast could not escape to hunt on its own. Normally, he would have gone to Lucius and used the man's desire to learn the ways of the warlock to his own advantage, but he had yet to see the man outside of meals, and Narcissa was always present at those times, and Nobu'tan was less than willing to reveal everything to yet another, unknown, person just yet.

There was also the trip to Stonehenge that had yet to be mentioned again, nearly a week after he arrived, but somehow Nobu'tan felt that it was alright to wait a short amount of time, and allow the Malfoy's to be accustomed to him in their house before making requests and pushing for what he desired. He had plenty of things to keep himself occupied, especially the plethora of Dark Arts books that Lucius and his family had collected. Some required Draco to be the one to physically touch them, but Nobu'tan eagerly read over the boy's shoulder to glean as much information that these wizards had concerning the darker aspects of magic.

He also had Alchemy, his Inscription and rudimentary Enchanting to practice, usually in the evenings. Draco only stayed and watched a few times, the boy having his own interests and desire to work on, not to mention the summer homework that they had been given, Nobu'tan having completed his while at the Dursleys earlier.

He had happily created a large supply on inks, as well as started with the complicated brewing processes for the most basic of alchemy elixirs, that of Lion's Strength, the yellow concoction able to swell the physical capabilities four fold, giving a normal human the strength of the great cat. Vials of the potion were already being boxed and set aside for whenever Nobu'tan felt he might need to use them, possible for funds or as bartering chips for some future event, but he hadn't quite planned that far ahead as of yet.

Enchanting was giving him much more trouble however, as finding items with enough magical properties to break down into base magical components, that wouldn't go missing, was difficult, and potentially expensive if he simply bought things to disenchant. He had thus far only really gotten about fully crafting his runed copper rod, which was the primary implement that he would need for these early stages of the profession.

Again, he was afraid that he might have to confide in Lucius Malfoy to get the items he needed for such an endeavor, and he was more than hesitant to involve the slippery man more than absolutely needed. The wild greed in the man's eyes when he had forced Nobu'tan to show off his skills in the power of the Void was testament enough of how much the man wanted the same power. Still Nobu'tan would rather give Lucius everything he wanted rather than share a single spell with Dumbledore, and that was truly remarkable in the case of a power hungry man like the Malfoy Patriarch.

As though thinking of the man was enough to summon him, Nobu'tan looked up from the book he was perusing to see Lucius striding into the Library. "It is finished," the man said, a large grin on his face as he took a seat opposite the young warlock, "the time and place for the meeting with the others is set for two weeks from now, here in the manor. Theodore Nott will be arriving tomorrow afternoon, and we can set out for your trip to Stonehenge either that evening or the day after, your choice."

"Thank you Lucius," Nobu'tan replied bowing his head in appreciation, "You have been more than a gracious host to me, I would prefer the cover of darkness if it is no mind to you, and so the evening after Theodore's arrival would suit me best."

"Very well, Mr. Potter" Lucius replied, "If there is anything else you need, a House Elf will be able to find me, as I am more than desirous to avoid my study for a while, a nice relaxing stroll through the grounds is what I feel is needed, to stretch out the limbs from all the cramped writing."

"Before you go, there is one thing," Nobu'tan said quickly, knowing that the man would sense his eagerness, but at the moment not caring.

"Yes?" Lucius replied, almost growing feral in his unblinking stare at Nobu'tan, like the cat whose next meal was about to fall into its open mouth.

"I have something I wish to do, a ritual of sorts, but it's rather dangerous and I need a secluded and safe area to perform it in." Nobu'tan started, but the look in Lucius Malfoy's eyes only intensified. Sighing, the warlock withdrew the scroll, knowing that he'd never get what he wanted without full disclosure at this point, and started to softly describe what the ritual entailed.

To say that Lord Malfoy was impressed was an understatement, he was positively gleaming with excitement at the prospect, "I can have one of the basement rooms warded within the hour, but I must insist on being able to witness this, it's not every day that one can see a true demonic summoning…"

"I… thank you Lord Malfoy…" Nobu'tan replied, deciding that it was in his best interest to not use a sarcastic comment at this moment.

If the aristocrat noticed the slip, he made no comment, merely setting aside the Wizarding newspaper that he had brought with him and departed the room again, presumably to make preparations for the ritual. Draco was also looked toward where his father had left, but as Nobu'tan turned to meet the boy's gaze he had already returned to his homework, "I presume that witnessing this event isn't something that will be particularly safe, if you require a closed off and warded room to do it in," he said matter-of-factly.

"Indeed," Nobu'tan replied, "the particular demon that I am ready to summon and bind can be quite nasty to those who use magic, which makes it all the more useful for me to acquire."

Draco nodded, "I will enjoy watching a more complicated demonic summoning then, and perhaps when Theodore arrives we will be able to get started on summoning our first demons as well."

"I believe that can most assuredly be arranged." The young warlock replied, wondering how quickly Lucius would be working on catching up to his son and Theo in learning the methodology of the Warlock's arts.

Almost forty-five minutes after Lucius left, a house elf appeared before Nobu'tan as they were walking back up to his guest room. "Master is saying that Young Master and Mr. Harry Potter can come down to the basement floor as their special room is ready."

"Alright, I will just need to collect a few things first and…" Nobu'tan started but the elf stopped him, "Dobby will be with the collecting of things that Mr. Harry Potter requires!" he said, a faint amount of pride and happiness in the elf's voice as he spoke.

"Um… Alright…" Nobu'tan said, unaccustomed to such politeness and eagerness to assist. After giving the little creature a quick list of what he needed and where they were in his room, the elf vanished with a sharp crack.

"It seems Dobby has taken quite a liking to you," Draco said, smirking, "Probably for the best, he is rather an odd elf at times…"

"And that differs from the standard elf how?" Nobu'tan shot back as they turned to go back down the stairs and head toward the basement level.

It only took a few moments to find the large almost dungeon-like room that Lucius had prepared for them, its walls shimmering with magic protection wards and shields. There was even a heavily partitioned area that held a pair of chairs for the two Malfoys to sit and watch while being protected. "I will warn you now," Nobu'tan said as Dobby the House elf reappeared with the required materials, "the demon I am summoning is a hound used for tracking and slaying mages, so your wards here will probably take quite a beating if I cannot subdue the creature quickly, not that I have intention to allow that to happen."

"Naturally, but we will be ready to fight or flee as needed when the time comes," Lucius replied coolly, before he and Draco moved behind the curtain of wards. Dobby had vanished when Nobu'tan took his scroll and other items, and the two wizards watched as the warlock prepared his summoning circle, drawing the intricate runes across the floor of the basement-dungeon, setting out the candles that would aid him in contacting the magic of the void from within such a warded area.

Finally, about ten minutes of preparation later, Nobu'tan stood and ran through his callings of his bound demons, calling forth Sartai, Xorton, and Quzkol to his side, and having the trio of demons fan out, the Voidwalker taking point before the circle, while the Succubus flanked around to the back, and the Imp taking up a position opposite Nobu'tan, behind the Voidwalker but off to the side to have a clear line of fire at the circle.

With everything ready to combat the demon as it leapt from the circle, Nobu'tan started the ritual, sending forth a tantalizing amount of magic into the void, promising the flesh of mages and raw magical energy that would attract a Felhunter alone. The failing that was in the scroll was that indeed, and Nobu'tan could only assume that the poor fool that had originally penned out this ritual had died when some more powerful demon had stepped through his circle, throwing his plans awry and slaying him quickly.

Nobu'tan had learned from the greatest of warlocks in the entire Horde however, and made no such mistake. Almost a minute after the ritual was started; the warlock felt the subtle tug as a fiendish creature took his bait, following the pulses of power through the void to his summoning circle.

The hound leapt up out of the miniature rift that had formed, snarling as its spiny protrusions on its hide quivered at all the ambient magic in the room. Two long, tentacle-like feelers wove this way and that, giving the seemingly-eyeless creature a sense of direction, but with all the magic it seemed somewhat confused.

The perfect time to strike, the warlock thought. Ordering his minions forward, Nobu'tan unleashed a torrent of fel flame at the hound, scorching its hide and making it snap out of its partial blindness. Its attempt to leap toward him was halted when Xorton arrived, slapping the hound with one of its large, blue arms and effectively keeping its attention away from anything else in the room.

Sartai raced up from behind and lashed her whip, entangling one of the Felhunter's legs, even as Both Nobu'tan and Quzkol pelted it with magic. Several times the hound's feeler lashed out at Nobu'tan, but only once did he feel the hound manage to temporarily block his access to the magic of the Void.

Unfortunately, the beast had no way of stopping him from tapping into his own personal reserves, and his wand slapped into his hand in a flash, cutting and bludgeoning curses flying from his lips as the jets of light pelted the demons magic resistant hide, causing little more than small cuts and bruising on the felhunter, but better than nothing.

Between the work of all four of them, the Felhunter seemed like it would drop within moments, but Nobu'tan refused to underestimate the demon just yet. He had seen too make potential warlocks simply torn apart because they allowed their minions to think them weak, and the creatures of the Legion would not suffer to serve someone weaker than themselves.

Soon enough, with a pitiful whine that was almost canine in sound, the Felhunter slumped to the ground, breathing hard but unable to muster the strength to fight any longer. With his other three guarding him, Nobu'tan approached the demon. "You are mine now…" he commanded, "Xorton, what is this creature's name?"

After a few moments where the pair of demons conversed in their strange languages, or at least Xorton conversed; the Felhunter did little more than growl or whine in response, the Voidwalker turned obediently to his warlock master, "Khiighun is what this tracker is called," he said.

"Good…" Nobu'tan replied, allowing the name to burn into his consciousness, so that he could call forth the hound to serve him in the future. It was good to add another demon to his growing power as a direct minion. He banished the exhausted demon, as well as his other minions, so that they could go and heal in the darkness of the Twisted Nether, and soon was joined by the pair of Malfoy men.

"Now you see what you stand to gain, Lucius," Nobu'tan said, working several cramps out of his arms from the gestures used to cast his spells, "Are you still prepared to pay the prices for this power?"

The man's smirk was detectable even while the young warlock had his back to him. "Naturally, Mr. Potter…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus stirred the cauldron he was laboring over with a fervor that rivaled most angry trolls, although his expertise would never allow him to spill so much as a drop of the precious concoction that he was preparing for the Hospital Wing, in anticipation of the myriad of dunderheaded students that would require healing over the course of the next year.

Albus had quickly discovered that the blasted Potter boy had disobeyed him and left his relative's house, although Severus was completely unsurprised at the outcome. Albus had grown too soft with the boy, and letting him have that much freedom was a mistake from the start. Naturally the boy would run at the first opportunity, when Albus had all but kidnapped him and dragged him to Hogwarts without as much as a by-your-leave. Not that Severus was sympathizing with the spawn of James Potter, mind you, but it probably had something to do with Petunia Dursley nee Evans and her family, but the old fool of a Headmaster wasn't hearing any of that.

Family was family as far as he was concerned, and while Petunia had been a jealous prat in her younger years, according to Severus' distinct knowledge of the subject, Albus was determined that the woman would not carry her vindictiveness onto her only remaining reminder of her sister. Severus greatly disagreed.

So now, instead of being able to get all the potion orders from the hospital wing, greenhouses, Hagrid, and the other miscellaneous requirements of the castle completed before the second month of the summer, Severus had to wrap up this first cauldron full that he had started, and whisk off to the Muggle world to hunt down Potter on Dumbledore's orders, presumable to 'encourage' him to return to his Aunt and Uncles house…

Oh how he despised the old man from time to time. Why was it whenever that boy was concerned, it was only he, Severus, the man who had hated the boy's father with a passion, the father that the boy had the gall to look identical to, but only he, Severus, could be counted on to perform any sort of demeaning task that demanded him to interact with the child on a more than professional level.

Wasn't it enough that he had to teach the child Potions, even though that in and of itself was actually quite refreshing, despite the diabolic gleam of his archrival's face lighting up with Lily's vibrant eyes whenever they covered something more complicated than the standard first year coursework.

Albus was more than insisting that Severus tutor Potter in more complex potions for the following year, making certain that Severus tried to get into the boy's confidence, not that it had worked out well for the few weeks at the end of the previous. Although that may have had in part something to do with Severus' lack of motivation, between the end of year exams that he had had to prepare, and the business with the stone and Quirrell causing great disruption to the boy's schedule.

Sighing irritated, Severus cast the preservation charm on the cauldron before him, wallowing in his irritation was never a good thing while he was brewing, as it had led to the majority of his personal accidents over his life, and the particular brew could sit for a while before needing his attention again anyway, extended tenfold by the charm.

The sooner he started on this maddening trip, the sooner it would be over or at least that was what he hoped to accomplish. Stalking up from the dungeons and out across the grounds, the Potions Master exiting from the wrought iron main gate to Hogwarts, immediately apparating to the muggle neighborhood where Petunia and her family was last reported to be.

Thankfully it was somewhere in the middle of the day when he arrived in the boring Surrey neighborhood. Severus presumed that all three of Petunia's family should be out around this time of the day, allowing him to sneak into the house and do what was needed without having to deal with Lily's horrid sister.

Entering the house with a silent unlocking charm, Severus sneered around at the bland and unnaturally clean rooms, before quickly mounting the stairs and locating the smallest bedroom, where Potter had stayed for all of three or four days with his relatives. Luckily, there were spells that existed to track the movement of a magic being, which had been why Albus singled out Severus for this task. The Dark Lord had demanded that each of his servants master these tracking spells to be able to locate the man's enemies, and Severus had been at the time more than eager to oblige.

It was easy to see that the boy had briefly lived here once the spell was cast, the very magic that was part of the overly gifted boy glowing faintly wherever the boy had made contact in the magically sterile environment. Unfortunately, after a further few minutes of searching, following the various trails of magic around the house and out to the front once again, Severus had to conclude that the boy never left the house or neighborhood without magical means.

As it was highly unlikely that the boy could apparate, even accidentally, and the muggle house was most assuredly not connected to the Floo Network, that left the Knight Bus and Portkeys as his means of travel. If it was the purple bus, then Severus could demand of the driver and conductor where they had taken the boy, but if Portkey then there was no knowing where the boy may have gotten off to.

Unless… remembering hard, Severus remembered that Draco Malfoy had been extremely friendly with the Ravenclaw boy, along with Theodore Nott, but of the pair it was far more likely that Draco would have the leverage at home to get the boy invite to stay during the summer. And Lucius Malfoy would never allow someone to arrive at his home via the horrendous Knight Bus, so a Portkey would have been the only measure, as there was no other magical signature inside the house other than Potters, and only Severus' own and Albus present outside from less than a month ago or more.

Albus would not be pleased to learn that Potter was in the clutches, politically speaking, of Lucius Malfoy. While Severus was more than certain that the blond Pureblood would not risk the wrath of the wizarding world by harming the boy within his own home, there were a plethora of other things that he could attempt, avenues of manipulation that could get him information that Albus wanted no others to know. And what was worse he thought, as he hastened to return to the school, the boy might be more than willing to give said information to someone who was drastically opposed to the Headmaster, purely on the grounds of what Albus had chosen to do when the boy resurfaced.

Apparating back to the entrance of the grounds with a flurry of motion, Severus walked as swiftly as he could toward the castle doors, silently working through the many options and problems that would inevitably arise when Albus learned of this situation, and Severus' powerful hunch of where the boy had gone.

Albus could attempt to force Harry to return to the Dursley's household, which would fly magnificently with the boy's already negative perception of the man, as well as putting credence on Lucius' removal of the boy from that environment. Yet there was also the possibility that Dumbledore would return the boy to Hogwarts again, further confining the boy from access to the outside world and pitting Lucius and the school governors against the Headmaster in a political battle that would rage for years around the boy.

Severus certainly hoped that Albus chose to not do something so foolish, but the fact remained that Potter staying in Lucius Malfoy's company was not wise for their side. Granted, Lucius Malfoy was only ever on Lucius Malfoy's side of things, and the possibility of him secretly assisting the Dark Lord, or attempting to even find the man were extremely low.

Bypassing the infuriating gargoyle to Albus' office, Severus burst in without knocking. "Ah, Severus, I was hoping that you might arrive sometime soon after you investigation of number four Privet Drive, what have you discovered?" the old man asked pleasantly, casually offering Severus the tray of muggle sweets on his desk.

Severus ignored the candies, standing rigid in the middle of the office as he presented his findings, "It is impossible for the boy to have left that residence other than the use of a Portkey or by taking the Knight Bus to some unknown location."

"Well," Albus said, "that at least limits the places he could hopefully have run off to, as I doubt that he had access to any sort of portkey… I will make the necessary arrangements for people to question the operators of the bus and…"

"But Potter did have access to a potential Portkey," Severus continued, cutting off the Headmaster, "Draco Malfoy was rather friendly with him during the year if you recall, and would more than likely want to continue growing their friendship over the summer…"

Albus blanched momentarily, "Lucius would indeed use a Portkey to bring young Harry to his home…"

"Thankfully, I highly doubt that Lucius would do anything of the sort if he was still under the sway of the Dark Lord…" Severus started, but it was Albus' turn to cut him off.

"No, I doubt that Voldemort is even involved at this point. Even Lucius and his manipulations don't have me concerned at the moment; it is more frightful that Harry is shielded from our watchful eyes, especially with the strange and downright frightful powers that the young man possesses. Lucius would be more than interested in learning everything he could about the boy's strange and powerful magic, and would do anything he could to tap into it. I fear for the man's safety if the boy is unknowingly provoked…"

Severus paused, having not considered that Lucius himself might be the one in danger in this case. "What do you suggest?" he asked.

But the old Headmaster merely shook his head, "I can't see any means of preventing this. If we warn Lucius of the danger the boy poses, I doubt that he'd listen to us, he'd more than likely just delve deeper into discovering exactly what we refer to, unleashing who knows what if the boy's power fully manifests itself, but at the same time if we do nothing that is equally likely to happen. And as you can guess, now that Harry is there, removing him without some sort of public backlash from the family will be nearly impossible, however…"

Severus paused, not liking the gleam in the man's eyes as he came to his realization, "However, Severus, this situation does put us closer to finding out what might be the extend of Harry's power, as you are still a close associate with Lucius, and would be able to check in on the boy from time to time, possibly learning what Lucius knows about him."

Somehow Severus was not surprised to hear that his involvement in this madness was not nearly ended, "I will draft a message to Lucius then, and see when I am able to visit him in his manor then…" he said grudgingly, standing and turning to leave Albus' office.

"Severus…" the old man said, causing Severus to turn back. Somehow, Albus seemed somewhat deflated from before: or older possibly, like the weight of his age was finally settling in. "We must make sure that Harry is safe, even if it is from himself. The future of our world depends on him."

Severus paused, his resentment and irritation dissipating with the slightly showing of how desperate Albus was over this matter. "I will do what I can," he said at last, before leaving to owl Lucius.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius gazed around with rapt attention to detail as the group of four wizards, young Theodore Nott having joined their group earlier that day, as they scaled the sloping hill around the magical location of Stonehenge. The muggles had quite overrun the area, putting up their ropes and trying to prevent others from approaching the standing stones, and that was all well and good for keeping their own kind from damaging the priceless magical ruins, but Lucius was above such meaningless rules, especially when they came from lesser beings than he.

So with a few quick charms to prevent the muggles from coming near to the stones for a time, he led the three young boys past the checkpoints and roped off areas to the ruins themselves. Magic was strong here, just as it had been when he was a boy and his father, Abraxas, had brought him here at the age of eleven, shortly before his own Hogwart's letter had arrived. The tradition had been continued with Draco, where the elder Malfoy had invoked a ritual to allow the heir to feel the magic of the world, at it pulsated and flowed through the powerful ruins, and taught the history of their race, and the importance of keeping that pure culture and idealism alive, protecting it from the corruption brought on by the muggles and their ever increasing encroachment into their world.

Not that Lucius would say that muggleborns didn't have their purpose, but for the safety of their rich and detailed traditions, they couldn't allow the filth of the muggle world to simply change everything that they held dear, as so many of the new generations thought ought to be done in their naivety.

When they reached the central partial circle of stones, Harry ran a hand loving along the side of one of the taller pillars, coming to a halt, "This is the place I learned of. Stand well back, I do not know who or what I am supposed to be calling out for, but they will be powerful…"

Draco and Theodore looked on in confusion, but Lucius, who had been partially informed of what was about to transpire, simply nodded, before leading the two boys further away, and reinforcing the charms around the ruin to keep those who might pry well away.

Potter stood there in the center for a moment, arms wide as he breathed in deeply of the magic of the location, a process that he was starting to teach to Lucius, and the older wizard was able to sense the magic rushing in droves through the boy as he reached out to the darkness between the stars. Night was well above them, and a cool breeze chilled the air as magic began to take physical form. It started as a gentle ripple before the boy, before the very fabric of reality before him was torn aside, arcane magic pooling around the sides to keep the portal between worlds open, even if the fracture was the size of a very small window.

" _I call upon the Masters of the Burning Legion_!" the boy said something in a language that Lucius was quite unfamiliar with, guttural and harsh sounding, " _Thy humble servant seeks an audience_!"

Fir a long moment, nothing more happened but then a large, clawed hand appeared in the window, stretching it sideways and making the rift even larger. Even as it did so another arm appeared, followed by a horned head and a pair of massive, bat-like wings. If Lucius didn't know better, he would have guessed that the demon was some sort of vampire in origin, but there were no records of such a creature on the earth.

" _You've called upon the masters of the Legion, little warlock, and I have come at the behest of Kil'jaeden, you are Nobu'tan are you not, apprentice of the warlock Gul'dan._ " The creature said, its language still undecipherable to the aristocratic pureblood.

Harry bowed before the creature however, so he could only guess that it was indeed what the boy had wanted so badly to come here and meet with. Lucius' only question, which he had had before and had been left unanswered by Potter, was as to the purpose of this meeting.


	17. C16: The Legion's Commands

**And the part that most people were waiting for! R &R and enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **The Legion's Commands**

Nobu'tan listened intently to the Nathrezim that had come in response to his summoning; one whom he knew was called Mephistroth, a high ranking member of the Legion that served the demon lord Kil'jaeden personally.

The rattle of the demonic language was a familiar sound and feel to the young warlock, and he relished the chance to converse in it once again, " _I have come as beckoned by the Legion, great Lord. What is the bidding of the masters for this one_?" he asked, somewhat trembling with excitement. The power that flowed off the Dreadlord's body was so thick that it was almost manifesting as a fine mist around the demon's figure, and Nobu'tan was supremely impressed.

" _Lord Archimonde has commanded that you are to prepare the way of the Burning Legion onto this pitiful world. It is time that we turn our attention from the land of Azeroth for a time, and replenish our forces with a few sets of victories while plans are set in motion for our ultimate goal._ " The demon replied.

Nobu'tan understood his orders, but the mention of Azeroth, his home, caused his head to snap up, " _Azeroth…_ " he said breathily. Regaining his composure quickly, he bowed again, " _My Lord, I will do as the Legion commands, but I have one request…_ "

The demon paused, interested that a mortal would request something of his demon masters, " _Speak then, and we shall see…_ "

Knowing that he had to be careful with the vampiric demon before him, Nobu'tan took a deep breath to formulate his request properly, " _Once I complete this task, and carve open the pathway to this world for the Legion, I would request that my masters make use of me once again, and return me to the world of Azeroth, and whatsoever companions will come with me, to assist in bringing the great prize of that world to its knees as well._ "

It started as a deep chuckle, and before long the massive bat winged demon was laughing loudly, its voice echoing around the stones, " _I had thought as much from you, servant of Gul'dan. You seek to reunite with your old master and return to the magic filled world that we demons so prize over all others. Very well, your request will be granted, upon you success here only. Failure will not be tolerated in this matter, you will succeed or die, do you understand little warlock._ "

" _Yes, Lord Mephistroth_ ," Nobu'tan replied, " _What are my instructions for creating such a gateway_?" he asked, knowing that the Legion was not foolish enough to make him learn to make a portal on his own.

" _As you are still so small and your power is merely beginning to take form, you will need several artifacts from this world to aid you_ ," the demon said, waving a clawed hand through the air and conjuring illusion of several items. Nobu'tan studied each of them intently, a thick tome that glowed with arcane might, a jeweled torque, a strangely familiar looking wand that Nobu'tan couldn't place at the moment, and finally a glittering diadem crested with the form of an eagle. The symbol was extremely familiar to Nobu'tan, having seen that very item etched in stone every day in his common room: the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.

" _These items are scatted across the four winds of your world,_ " Mephistroth explained, " _You will need to gather them all here, to this place, and upon a winter solstice, when the Light's power is weakest, you will cast the spells that will tear open the fabric of space and open the rift between worlds. Once Lord Archimonde sets foot on this world, you and your followers will be most handsomely rewarded_."

" _I understand, my Lord,_ " Nobu'tan said again, even as the demon started to turn for the rift once more, " _Do not fail us like others have in the past, Nobu'tan_ ," Mephistroth warned, " _the consequences are not the kind that can be simply avoided…_ "

But whatever the Dreadlord meant, Nobu'tan wasn't sure, as he disappeared into the shimmering rift moments later, and the portal closed with a whoosh of displaced air.

Nobu'tan remained where he was for a long time, pondering what the demon lord had ordered him to do, to gather in preparation for ushering in the destruction if this world. The pair of male Malfoys approached cautiously, but the young warlock didn't react as they stood on either side of him.

"Well," Lord Malfoy said, glancing around, "that was something quite… unexpected. Come," he said, beckoning for Nobu'tan to take his arm, "we must go before the Muggles get suspicious about what has occurred here this night."

Numbly, Nobu'tan took the offered arm, and with a loud cracking sound and the uncomfortable squeezing, they apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was never one to admit when he was frightened, but this, he supposed, was to be one of the exceptions. The demon that Harry had summoned, and conversed with be the looks of what had been going on in the druidic circle, was downright terrifying. The great horned monstrosity seemed like it would just as soon kill and consume your flesh and soul rather than look at you, but Harry had not only faced it and spoken with it, but actually appeared to reverence and respect the creature.

Draco was understandably unnerved by the grit his friend had to do such a thing, but also deeply curious, as was Lucius, as to what was discussed between the Ravenclaw and the demon. When they reappeared in the great hall of the manor, therefore, Draco eagerly helped his father usher Harry to Lucius' private study, a location normally forbidden to guests, expect in situations where they did not want to be disturbed in their business for any reason.

Once inside the heavily decorated room, Lucius bolted and warded the door with everything he could think of, while Draco summoned a House Elf for tea and some food, before practically pushing the clearly lost in thought Harry into one of the wing backed chairs opposite his father's desk.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you are indeed full of surprises yet it seems," Lucius said, as the two Malfoys took their own seats, and Dobby reappeared to pour them all tea. "So, would you care to explain some of what just occurred to us, Mr. Potter?"

But Harry was still muttering to himself, just barely audible, his eyes darting like he was seeing things that neither of the others in the room could, and Draco cautiously put his hand in front of his friend's face, snapping the figures loudly to attract the Ravenclaw's attention. Harry jolted at the loud noise, looking around in surprise.

"Apologies," he said, bowing his head, "I learned quite a bit and there was much to ponder over."

"And that was what we were hoping to discuss as a group," Lucius said, not reacting to the unsophisticated reaction, but pushing for them to hold their conversation. "What did you learn?"

Harry paused a moment, before nodding to himself, as though agreeing internally to include them with his plans. "More or less the demon, a Dreadlord named Mephistroth, told me that I am needed for something great, and that I need to collect several powerful magical items back to Stonehenge as soon as possible."

Lucius sat forward, pondering, "And what items are these supposed to be?" Draco wondered aloud.

"I know what they look like, but little more, aside from the final item, but they are probably lost artifacts that will need to be hunted for and recovered." Harry explained, waving a hand and conjuring several images: a tome, a collar-like necklace, a wand, and a tiara. None of these held any significant value in Draco's mind, but his father's quick intake of breath clearly meant that some, if not all, of these items were rare or valuable, or both.

"That is a tall order that you are asked of, Mr. Potter," he said, before explaining, pointing at each item in turn, "The Grimoire of Merlin, said to be held somewhere deep in the Department of Mysteries, never to be opened or used due to the complex and overly destructive spells contained within." He said, pointing at the book.

"The torque of Morgan le Faye, a powerful jeweled necklace that was said in legend to be lost between this world and Avalon when the witch queen departed from this world just prior to the destruction of Camelot," he said, pointing to the small necklace like object.

Lucius skipped the wand, almost looking somewhat puzzled before refocusing on the tiara, "the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, stolen by her daughter before she was killed out in Albania. The location is not known where it may yet be hidden."

"What about the wand?" Draco asked, as Lucius looked like he was finished.

"I do not know what wand that is supposed to be," Lucius said, puzzled, "but if I were to guess, I would say the Elder Wand of the legend of the three brothers, but that is also rather presumptuous, even given the other legendary items that you say this demon commanded you to retrieve."

Turning to Harry, Draco released a short breath, "Well, this won't be something easy to accomplish," he said.

"I know, but it will be worth it if we succeed," Harry replied.

Lucius was already nodded, and Draco knew that was a sign that he intended to devote what resources he could toward this goal, "I'll see what my contacts in the Ministry have to say about the Grimoire, it's a long shot, but we may be able to at least confirm that it is there before trying to make any move to retrieve it."

"Thank you," Harry said, "Once we know it's there, I will do anything needed to acquire it, although I think we can all agree that we'd rather that the Ministry remains standing after I'm finished."

"That would indeed be true," Lucius said, "and I also think we'll be hard pressed to actually get you out of Hogwarts before the winter vacation at the very soonest, due to the interference of a certain old Headmaster with some strange need to control you."

Harry huffed back, "That is true as well, I suppose."

They continued their discussion, speculating about some of the other items, but by and large Draco was left forgotten, and although he understood that this was merely because he had no relevant information to contribute, it still irked him that he was being ignored. He was Harry's friend after all, and it was he that planned out getting the boy here, not Lucius, but like always when his father wanted something, all else was pushed aside.

Soon enough, his father called an end to the discussion, "There is only so much we ought to focus on at the present time," he said, waving a hand dismissively, "We need to prepare for when my other associates arrive on the morrow, not to mention recover from this night's events. You both should go off to bed; we can talk more in the morning before our guests arrive."

"Yes Father," Draco said, standing at the same time as Harry. "Of course, Lord Malfoy," he added as they both turned to exit.

With a wave of his wand, Lucius undid all the wards and spells on his office, and the door sprang open for them. Draco knew that he did need sleep, but with all the exciting events, and the thick layer of magic that he had felt while at the stone circle, he found it very hard to feel tired at all.

Thankfully, the house elves seemed to realize this, and a mug of warm milk was waiting for him at his bedside when he finally did part from Harry and enter his own room. Smiling to himself as he got under the covers, Draco decided that it was far better that Harry had entered his life. Comparatively, everything before meeting the black haired Ravenclaw was significantly more boring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was true to his word. His contacts in the Ministry, one Walden Macnair primarily, held a chain of contacts to their old friend in Azkaban, Augustus Rookwood, who once worked in the Department of Mysteries itself, reported that the Grimoire did indeed exist, but getting at it would be more than difficult, as it was under heavy guard in the lowest section of the Department.

According to Rookwood, through Macnair, it would require power on the same level as the Dark Lord at the height of his rein to break through the protections to Merlin's book, and even then they'd have the entire Department breathing down their necks on the way out, as every Unspeakable would be infuriated at the theft of their most powerful, and dangerous, artifact.

But, Lucius could happily report to Potter that it did indeed exist, and was not going anywhere for a long while, so they had something to work with for the time being. Not that Lucius was terribly sure that he wanted to pass on such information to the boy at the present time, with his fellow disillusioned Death Eaters arriving to meet with the boy, as well as other reasons…

Seeing the boy so comfortable in the presence of such a clearly powerful and… even by Lucius' standards, evil being, made the Pureblood somewhat uneasy. That level of chaotic magic was not something that just anyone should be able to throw around on a whim, and it seemed like there was good reason that these artifacts were lost or hidden away. However, at the same time, he wanted to hear what Potter's argument for going through with the plan would be, so he waited with his information on hand just in case he was convinced.

They were set to meet in entrance hall of Malfoy Manor in the early afternoon, Narcissa had gone out to Diagon and Knockturn for the time, not wanting to be present for the 'old club' meeting that was taking place, but Draco had declined to join her, wanting to finally participate.

The first to arrive were the Notts, young Theodore also being included for his study of the fel arts along with Draco, although the boy's father was at a loss as to why Lucius had specifically requested the boy to attend.

Atonin Dolohov arrived next, casting suspicious gazed over the three boys before joining Nott Sr. in some idle chat as Lucius welcomed the next round of guests. Crabbe and Goyle Sr. were the next to arrive, either brooding over something, or just stupidly plodding along as their inbred brains struggled to comprehend what was going on, Lucius didn't know for certain.

Yaxley and Walden Macnair were the last to arrive, the former gazing coldly over the small gathering, while the latter greeted Lucius with a stiff nod of the head. These six, along with Lucius for seven, were the majority of the inner circle of Death Eaters that remained free of Azkaban and wanting nothing more to do with the Dark Lord.

The Carrows had not been invited, as they were desperately loyal to the madman, and would be eagerly spouting their desires for him to return to power. It was a feat that they had not joined Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix, and her family in the dementor filled prison, but one could not have everything. The other two that had not been invited were Severus Snape and Igor Karkaroff, the former being deep in Albus Dumbledore's pocket, and the latter as a known squealer and traitor. Neither could be trusted to keep their secrets safe.

"Good, we are all in attendance now," Lucius said in greeting to them all.

"Let's get on with this then," Yaxley said briskly, his cold eyes turning on Potter, soon to be followed by the rest of the assembled Death Eaters, "I want to know why I ought to even care about this footnote of a boy that just happened to slay the Dark Lord, or else I'd like to return to my manor and get on with my life…"

Murmurs cycled through the others, and while Lucius had already known that many felt the same way, uncertain and unaware of what powers the boy held, he had wanted to see how Potter handled those who were unsupportive of his claims.

Lucius was not disappointed. "A footnote, am I?" Potter started, smirking deviously. Even the other two boys had stepped back from him, and Lucius, who had also had his senses opened to the powerful magic from the ley lines that flowed through all three boys, could sense the immense amount of power that was being channeled through Potter.

"You seem to have already made up your minds regarding this little meeting, and come to the false conclusion that I am merely a waste of your time, I who was the downfall of Voldemort…" Harry continued, ignoring the hiss and flinches that swept the Death Eaters at the mention of their old master's name. The Dark Mark reacted to the smallest whisper of that name, and caused pain to them at its mention, forcing them to respect it.

"However… you all seemed to easily forget that there is other magic in this world…" Potter continued, even as the magic became palpable and noticeable by even those unawake of the ley lines beneath Malfoy Manor, "Magic far older than your old Lord, and far more powerful…"

Potter raised a single hand, and conjured demonic fire within a fraction of a second, letting the bright green flames crackle and flow between his fingers for a long moment before extinguishing them. Dark energy flared to life behind the emerald green eyes then, and with a small exertion of power, Potter called forth his servants. Having witness these demons before, neither of the other boys seemed to mind, but all the adults, including Lucius, were taken aback as the four demonic creatures appeared in a flash of magical energy.

"The powers I serve are such that any can come and partake of them, for the right price…" Potter said enticingly, allowing the fel magic to waft over and around the room, its pungent and sickly sweet aroma tantalizing to even the thickest of wizards.

"This is my offer, power in its purest form, and the chance to serve new masters, in exchange for loyalty. Not subjugation, as you had with Voldemort, but a true equality between all involved. A Pact, as it was, between Warlocks and the demons of the Burning Legion."

It was a bold, almost Gryffindor-esk move, blunt and to the point, but Lucius was impressed enough to see that it had paid off. The show of his power, along with the strength of the demons he had control over were more than enough to tempt even the strongest willed of these former Death Eaters.

The first to approach with more questions was Dolohov, "and what of the potential return of the Dark Lord, boy? What will you do that would protect us from being branded as traitors to his cause and slain?"

Potter gave the man the slightest of glances, but the withering cold in the boy's eyes made even Lucius shiver slightly under his robes. "If he were to somehow manage to return again… He will have much to answer for…" Potter said, all warmth disappearing from his face as he spoke.

That was when Lucius made the final choice in his own heart. Potter may just be well enough mad like the Dark Lord, but the demonic servant offered them much in return for their loyalty, unlike their previous master. It also stood to reason that they would have opportunity to assist in training and preparing Potter to be the equal of the Dark Lord, sharing their experiences and knowledge to make his just as great and terrible as the other, without him feeling so much superior to the rest of them.

He could see that a few, Macnair and Yaxley for a start, were seeing the same in the boy, and were subtly edging forward. Nott Sr. was already nodding along with Potter, having come to the conclusion earlier, while Crabbe and Goyle Sr. seemed to just like the idea of power, regardless of where it came.

Dolohov seemed more conservative, but in the end he agreed as well, "Well, we all know we will be punished by the Dark Lord even if we didn't outright betray him, so it really doesn't matter either way."

"Good," Potter said, slowly banishing each of his demons one by one. The horned female demon managed to blow Dolohov a kiss before vanishing, to which the older man shuddered visibly.

"Then, at Lord Malfoy's discretion, we shall meet every so often while the summer permits, and exchange information that is relevant to my cause, as well as lessons of knowledge, the Dark Arts from you all in exchange for the power of the Twisted Nether from me." Potter continued the shadows and his magic seeming to gleam off the boy like a dark halo, "and together, we shall lead this world to the perfect position for the coming of the Lords of the Burning Legion."

"How are we to accomplish this?" Nott Sr. asked, tilting his head as he listened.

"I have already been in contact with the messengers of the Legion," Potter explained, citing the trip to Stonehenge, and the objects he was to collect, and everything he had shared with Lucius and Draco concerning the matter. At first Lucius thought it might be somewhat foolish to share everything of their plans with the others, but in time he saw that, in explaining to the them, the boy was more than safe. To an outside observer, who didn't understand the power that the boy possessed, or the beings in which he associated, it seemed ludicrous. Lucius himself, if he had not seen it would not have believed it, and all British wizards universally believed nothing of the sort existed outside their world. Granted that probably was a simple lack of focusing on anything outside of the immediate lives, but that was hardly the point.

However, as Potter began issuing the other's first instructions, Lucius remembered something very important to the Dark Lord, an object that was currently in his possession, trusted to him by his old Master personally. It probably wouldn't be wise for him to hang onto such an item any longer, especially now that he was actively going against what the man had stood for. Potter… Harry… had explained thoroughly that the powers of the Nether were more widely accepting than the wizarding magic that ran in their blood. While they may be stronger than the average sorcerer or warlock that the boy had encountered who knew where, they were still nowhere near unique or special in that regard.

It was somewhat humbling to realize that the pureblood mania of his forefathers truly meant little, and for the misdirection to Dumbledore and the others in the Wizengamot he would have to keep up the front, but Lucius was slowly losing his desire to continue spitefully discriminating against those who had power to harness the Nether and the magic of the world. Granted, muggles were still free game, bur their magical children however simply needed to be removed from their harmful influence, to protect their society and their magical secrets from being exposed.

Returning to the book that the Dark Lord had given him, Lucius decided that he would simply kill two birds with one stone. Arthur Weasley was trying to pass some muggle protection act at the Ministry, last he recalled. That simply would not do, as the world needed to remember that as magical people, they were indeed superior to the mundane filth that polluted their world. Perhaps one of the man's overly many children would be 'accidentally' given an extra book for the coming year at Hogwarts.

It would be all too easy to slip the object into an unsuspecting child's hands, then simply let events play out how they may, which would discredit the foolish dolt and his attempted law for good. Either that, or he could just simply pawn the item off at Borgin and Burke's like a vast amount of his other heavily dark artifacts, to keep prying eyes at the Ministry off of him, but that would be a secondary choice at best.

Arrangements were soon made between the seven Death Eaters and three boys. Nott Sr. would come and tutor all three of them in the Dark Arts, along with other spells and charms during the remainder of the summer, and biweekly the seven of them, and two boys, would join together to practice this new magic under Harry's tutelage. The boy promised that he would see them become proficient, but Lucius wondered how easy that would be accomplished, especially with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle among them.

Then again, perhaps Lucius simply was underestimating the pair of adults based on the oafishness of their children, as the pair seemed quite cognitive when it came to explaining out several fine details of transfiguration and potions, respectively. Strange that…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was growing nervous regarding Harry Potter. Not that this was highly unusual anymore, but his unease had been building a new ever since he learned that Lucius Malfoy did indeed have the boy in his home. It was now nearly two months from the time that he had deposited the boy with his relatives, and nearly Harry's birthday. Albus had been planning on taking the boy for shopping in Diagon himself, or at the least sending Severus if he was unavailable, but now that was not even possible.

He could only assume that Lucius would be taking both his son and Harry to the wizarding marketplace any day now for the same thing. Perhaps it would be best to have people in place at Diagon on July thirty-first, just in case the aristocratic pureblood had some manner of care and took the boys out on Harry's birthday.

The door opened, and Albus turned to eagerly look at Severus, fresh from his latest attempt to gain entrance to Lucius' Manor and see Harry. "Any sign on him this time Severus?" he asked, wilting slightly as the Potions Master shook his head.

"Lucius has strongly stood against many visitors, wanting the boys to have as much time to relax and unwind without their teachers looming over them or, and I quote, 'prying into their personal lives any more than their professional positions ought to permit.'

Albus flinched slightly at the cruel barb that the blond pureblood had thrown at him. The man was hardly manipulating the boy any less than Albus had been, but at least Albus had Harry's interests at heart, and the boy's survival, as opposed to whatever scheme that Lucius had cooked up.

"It seems we have little choice but to wait for whenever Lucius takes them to Diagon for the school supplies." Albus said, "I'll have some of our people watching the alley and notify me personally when they're spotted, then we will happen by and be able to converse with Harry directly about how he is faring at Malfoy Manor."

"Would it be wise to continue pushing this matter so hard, I wonder?" Severus asked aloud, "I mean to say, won't this course of action further alienate the boy to you?"

Sighing deeply, Albus put his head in his hands, massaging his temples steadily, before speaking, "I lost the boy once, Severus. I do not care if he hates me for it, I will not allow Harry to up and disappear again like that, especially if it has even the remotest chance to be the last time that anyone sees him."

The young Professor seemed to understand the amount of pain and determination in Albus' voice, as he withheld any more protests, simply nodding before taking his leave of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. After a few moments of trying in vain to cause his headache to cease, Albus gave it up as a lost cause and pulled out quill and parchment, quickly penning a simple note to several of his contacts, before multiplying it and summoning a small flock of school owls to take the letters on their way.

He certainly hoped that he was indeed just being as paranoid as Alastor on this one, but the wrenching feeling in his gut told him that something foul was indeed afoot, and he needed to be far more diligent in preventing some terrible disaster, whether it came from Lucius, Voldemort, or another source altogether.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan awoke on July the thirty-first, feeling rather refreshed and strangely different. He had physically grown, to be sure with his young body, but his magic was feeling somewhat altered as well. It was an odd sensation, but neither uncomfortable nor painful, just different.

Emerging from the bed he casually looked over himself while preparing his things for the day, as Lucius had been hinting that they would go to the wizarding market district, Diagon. Nothing seemed to be amiss, so eventually Nobu'tan just pushed aside the thoughts regarding whatever strange things had occurred with his magic and dressed.

In the end, he did this by rationalizing that he had been learning a great deal of magic lately, and the majority of it being part of the Dark Arts, and that probably had put a great deal of strain upon his magical reserves, along with using more of his fel magic than he had ever before in the majority of the previous year, in teaching the seven adults and two boys the fine arts of becoming a warlock of the Burning Legion.

It seemed to be significantly harder for adults to grasp the altered form of drawing magic to and through them from an outside source than it had for children, or else Nobu'tan had just been lucky to have need drawn to the brightest youths in the castle at the time. But it did not matter, as he had made a solemn oath that they would all succeed in becoming powerful warlocks, and in truth the beginnings of his own Shadow Council on this world, and he would see both goals done.

He had also never once breathed a word on the true goals of the Burning Legion, although he had been asked a few times, predominantly by Doloholv and Yaxley, who seemed the most distrustful of him over the rest. this was actually a good thing, as he wanted servant that could think for themselves, not enough to actually betray him however, so he may in time have to put the pair in their places to establish dominance, but for now he was just a useful child to them, and not worth their effort to try and harm while they were still learning the basics of summoning an imp.

Both Theodore and Draco had accomplished this feat, and could not call on a whim their personal, fire throwing servants. As the nature of how the warlock controlled their minion, a strict usage of fel energy and the true name of the creature, he had specifically not learned the names of their imps, not wanting to undermine his servants in their growth by stealing their own minions right out from under them.

He himself had demonic servants and to spare, as his power had grown to where imps flocked to him whenever he used the power of the Twisted Nether. These never stayed long, disappointed that they could not bond with such a powerful warlock as he, but they were nevertheless useful for added damage and chaos for as long as they remained.

Heading down from the personal rooms on the top floor of Malfoy Manor, Nobu'tan wasn't surprised to find the rest of the household up and starting their morning meal. Lord and Lady Malfoy glanced up at him as he entered the small, intimate dining room, before returning to their own meals and Lord Malfoy to his copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Draco on the other hand, smiled as Nobu'tan approached and sat beside him; happily taking a toast and spreading some butter and jam over it while his cup was filled with tea by a house elf.

Scoffing to himself, Lord Malfoy set aside the paper and turned to address the young warlock, "Are you ready for our visit to Diagon Alley today?" he asked.

Nobu'tan understood that the pureblood noble was refer to the potential backlash as he reentered the rest of the wizarding world, where Dumbledore would have access to approach and possible start causing problems in his life again. The orc raised human had had a wonderful time away from the manipulative old man, safe within the walls of the Malfoy's Manor house, but all good things ended, he supposed.

"I am prepared," he replied with equal solemnity, and Lucius nodded to himself, satisfied.

After he had had his fill of food, despite the small roils of anxiety in his stomach from quite likely facing Dumbledore again, Nobu'tan rose with the family, and together the four of them made their way out past the front gates of the Manor. Narcissa took hold of Draco's hand, and together the pair disappeared with a loud cracking sound of apparition. Lucius held out his arm for Nobu'tan, and sighing at the inefficiency of the system, the warlock uncomfortably took hold, wincing at the unpleasant squeezing as they traveled to the marketplace.

They appeared just inside the Alley, which was already crowded with shoppers despite the early hour. Making their way quickly through the throngs, the Malfoys led Nobu'tan to the large white building of Gringotts, where he knew the goblins would be expecting him to make another appearance soon. Nobu'tan wasn't sure exactly what it was about himself that so intrigued the goblins.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was raised so differently from the wizards they were used to dealing with, that they were shocked when one showed them the courtesies of a warrior race. But somehow that didn't quite sit right as the whole of the matter. There had to be something that Nobu'tan was missing, something clear and obvious to the goblins about him, which he was either missing or taking for granted about himself.

Entering the large building, Nobu'tan was surprised to note that there were a slight few more goblins present about the main lobby, casually hiding weapons as though they expected trouble to arise. The Malfoys, along with all the other wizards were less than oblivious, even as Lord Malfoy took the young warlock to wait in the line to meet with a teller.

It was rather amusing, for Nobu'tan, to see the haughty and rather full of himself Lucius all but ignored by the goblin teller as he demanded access to his vault, only for the teller to wave over a lesser goblin to take the man down, which insult was all but ignored by the aristocrat as typical goblin behavior. Once he had departed however, all pretenses fell as the goblin addressed Nobu'tan. "You've returned, I presume you wish to meet with Manager Badrod as soon as possible, as well as another withdrawal from your trust vault?"

"That would be correct…" Nobu'tan replied, smiling toothily at the goblin, who nodded and called for another goblin, politer this time, to escort the young warlock to his conniving bank manager. It was only a few moments before he was called inside, and sat across from the smirking goblin once more.

Nobu'tan was decidedly sick of the games that these goblins were playing with him, and decided to change the rules of the game somewhat. "So, I cannot help but notice that this is not the method which you treat others who come to the bank," Nobu'tan commented casually, figuring the upholstery of the chair upon which he sat, "Why is that, not that I am ungrateful for the courtesy, nor the respect that I've been received with, but I am curious as to what I did to merit it?"

"One would have thought that to be obvious, Mr. Potter," Badrod replied, eyes shimmering with the game that had begun, "there are so few that remember that we goblins are a proud race of warriors, and given us the respect to actually treat us as such."

"This is true, and what I had originally thought," Nobu'tan countered, "but I am starting to think it is something more than just returning simple respect, not that I intend to offend, but goblins from what I've encountered, are more complicated than that, and do not care for wizards no matter how they try to learn of the other races of this world."

It was a small bluff, but as the similarities between these goblins and those of Azeroth were so very close, Nobu'tan was willing to take the chance that the two groups were far closer than he had previously guessed.

"And what do you think our motives would actually be, then?" the manager said, leaning forward eagerly, while sharing a wide smile of sharp teeth.

Recognizing the return of his challenge, Nobu'tan mirrored the stance. "Well, it's clear that you have many questions about me, everyone does. Where I've been, and who raised me, but I think you are less interested in the who as the where, but only just. Warrior races are few and far between, and you may feel concerned that if another was on the rise and had influence to take in a wizard of fame like myself, that they may be something of a threat to you, regardless of where or how many there were."

The nail struck directly upon the head, judging from the gleam of desire in the goblin's eyes, Nobu'tan pressed on, "continued from that, you would want, personally, to be the goblin of note that made contact with this hypothetical race, and made absolutely certain that the Gringotts goblins were either stronger, or could have peace with them, perhaps even freedom from the wizard's oppression by lending assistance… Am I close?"

Sadly, Badrod was less shocked and surprised by this than eager that Nobu'tan was leveling with him openly. Smiling widely he spoke, "And if that were exactly what we at Gringotts had in mind, what would your reaction be, Mr. Potter?"

"I would be remiss," Nobu'tan replied, turning slightly and smirking, "to have the unfortunate need to inform you that the race of warriors which you seek is not remotely within access to neither help nor harm you or this bank, nor even the wizards of Britain for that matter, so your hopes are baseless."

The goblin looked less than pleased by the news, but before he could continue, Nobu'tan help up a hand, "I have been wisely advised to not disclose their identity or location at this present time, however, means are being seen to that would bring me back into contact with them. It is possible that a working agreement between us, myself and the Goblin Nation, could see to the contact of these two warrior races. And I assure you that they will indeed find a great use for and respect toward the goblins of Gringotts, aside from their close contact with humans."

"And how could we trust you alone with that kind of deal, without reassurances?" Badrod said sternly, revealing to Nobu'tan how quickly the talk could degrade into enmity between himself and the goblins if he did not act quickly.

"I will not demand any such deal to be made between us, not yet at any rate," he said quickly, to buy himself time, "but as for assurances, I will give you places of research that may lead to answers that you seek, or at least prepare your people for the tale of my whereabouts for the beginning part of my life. Seek out information regarding the Burning Legion, and then we shall have a long discussion."

The goblin watched him for a long moment, before nodding grimly, pushing across his desk a sack of gold, and gesturing that Nobu'tan was free to go.

As he left the bank with the Malfoys, Nobu'tan hoped that his little gamble had paid off. The Burning Legion, and demons in general, couldn't be completely unheard of in this world, especially if he had already found dark material that depicted the summoning of their servants. If the goblins were wise at all, they would do what he requested, which would give them the ideas necessary to accept his travel across worlds to the land of Azeroth, and the existence of such a race as the orcs of Draenor, and how they fit into the designs of the demonic lords of the Legion.

"Until our next meeting then," he muttered to himself as he followed behind Lucius and Narcissa, descending the steps of the bank and into the throngs that flooded around the wizarding marketplace. It would prove to be interesting how his interaction with these creatures may change after this day, for better or worse.


	18. C17: Broadening the Playing Field

**Thanks for the continued support through reviews and PMs of questions and comments. I try to get back to as many as send them, naturally I cannot always respond to everything immediately, but I make the attempt as a general rule. Please continue the flow to positive moral support and enjoy the next chapter.**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

 **Broadening the Playing Field**

Hermione always relished the time that she spent with her parents, and even more so when she could show them her new world, such as now while they explored Diagon Alley. They had already planned to come sometime next month to buy her school supplies, but as they had been in London during a dentistry convention, they had all decided that they might as well drop by to at least look around a bit more and familiarize themselves with the layout of the magical marketplace.

Hermione hoped that they might consider buying a few magical odds and ends, useful things that would make their life at home all the easier, but her parents had been strictly warned by Professor McGongall that they ought to stay as normal as possible, as they lived in a completely muggle neighborhood, and both her mother and father had emphatically agreed.

Still, as she led them both down the cobblestoned street, idly explaining everything that they passed, Hermione couldn't have been happier. She felt that she was standing on the edge of something new, a bridge of sorts between the muggle world and the magical, and perhaps, if she did things just right, she could help to bring the two just a bit closer together. The magic far under the Alley seemed to hum in response to her desires, sending warmth through her body, and telling her that if she wished, power would come to her to accomplish anything she desired.

She was so lost in herself at the moment, that she very nearly ran into someone through the thick crowds, but managed to pull up short and avoid ramming headlong into the luxurious robes. "Oh… excuse me," she said, fretting that she might have startled the blonde man.

"Hermione?" said another voice nearby, and she turned slightly to see Harry standing just behind the blond man she had almost run into. There was also an equally well dressed woman on the man's arm, as well as a younger blond boy that she vaguely recalled seeing in Hogwarts, a Slytherin if she remembered correctly.

"Oh Harry!" she said, brightening even further, before remembering her manners and returning her attention to the blond man before her, who seemed to be some sort of aristocrat or nobleman. "I apologize for nearly running into you sir, but as you seem to be acquainted with Harry, I should introduce myself, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Second Year." She said with a small curtsy, suddenly very grateful that her mother had forced her to wear a skirt today.

Instead of congenial, the man almost seemed to sneer in return, until Harry stepped forward, whereupon the man cooled his expression and offered his hand to her, "Lord Lucius Malfoy, my dear." Gesturing at the woman and the other boy, the man continued, "my wife, Narcissa, and our son, Draco. You know Mr. Potter already; he is currently staying with us over the summer."

"You're _the_ Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione said, surprised, "I've read all about you."

Whatever the aristocrat had been expecting, that was certainly not it. And she had indeed read his name quite a number of times in various articles in _the Daily Prophet_ , as well as several of the more modern books of recent wizarding history, among several other things that had been aided by his vast family fortune to produce. The man was also one of the Hogwarts Governors, one who had strong traditional morals and tendencies.

Unfortunately, that was where the majority of good things ended that she had learned about the man before her. But before she could excuse herself, her parents arrived, and were eagerly introducing themselves to Harry and the Malfoy family.

She held her breath, waiting for the bombshell to drop when the staunch Pureblood supremacist realized that he was speaking with a pair of Muggles, but if the man knew or even suspected, he made absolutely no mention of it, politely offering an overview of the highlights of Diagon Alley, and the best stores for young witches and wizards, even pointing out a few of the lesser known bookstores that usually had a better selection and were less crowded than Flourish and Blotts.

"Especially good to go to those now," he mentioned, glancing toward the store in question, "What with that pompous fool, Gilderoy Lockhart parading himself around trying to pawn off more of his books at the moment."

Hermione had heard that name recently as well, as his books were all on the course material for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year, although logically it was quite a few books for one class. When she mentioned this fact, Lucius Malfoy frowned momentarily, before requesting to see his son's booklist. "I see, well, I guess we will simply have to do without Lockhart's books, and hire a private tutor over the next summer to make up for it…" he said cryptically, exchanging a knowing look with Harry.

Hermione was uncertain if that was the best course of action, but challenging an adult's decision was not something that she felt comfortable doing, especially once as powerful and rather intimidating as Mr. Malfoy. "Well, we must be off now, it was a pleasure to meet with all of you," Lucius said after a few more moments, shaking her father's hand and kissing her mother's respectfully.

"See you," Harry and Draco said to Hermione, and soon the family, and Harry, was moving off through the crowd toward the back of the Alley. Hermione was about to turn toward the bookstore and see what the entire ruckus about this Lockhart fellow was going to be about, when there was a startling noise behind her.

It seemed that the Malfoy's had only made it a few yards from the Granger before encountering another familiar, if significantly less friendly, group of people. Wands were drawn, and people all around them were scrambling to get away just in case spells were cast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius had known that the moment they started speaking with the muggle family of one of Harry's friends that they were all being watched. Normally he would have ignored the muggles and proceeded on, but as the girl had very politely tried to make amends for accidentally running into him, he was obligated to at least treat them with the same courtesy that he had received. It also didn't hurt that he seemed to have earned a bit more respect from Potter in the process, temporarily laying aside his long standing hatred for those who would want to trample their traditions into the dirt and leave them forgotten.

What he had not expected was to find that the muggle family of this Hermione Granger had no such feelings to change their way of life, but merely wanted to know how best they could become part of it, for their daughter's sake. The pair of magic-less adults knew that they would never fully belong here, but they wanted to do the best that they could with their limitation to facilitate their child to have the best possible life, and that was something that the Pureblood could respect, even coming from Muggles. So he had had no qualms speaking with them, and helping direct them to some of the more useful shops in the Alley, aside from the large and well known places that frequently had far too many customers at certain times of the year.

It was only when he spotted the Weasley family, the foolish and narrow minded followers of Dumbledore, that he quite abruptly dropped the conversation, and made their excuses so that they could try and slip through the crowd and get away, but the red haired family hadn't come completely alone.

Blocking the way ahead was the massive Gamekeeper of Hogwarts, one Rubeus Hagrid, another loyal Dumbledore supporter. Unfortunately, being blocked like that allowed for the red haired family to catch up with them. "Lucius…" came the irritating voice behind him.

Turning slowly to face them, Lucius narrow his eyes coldly, the hand upon his walking stick clenching, eager to draw the wand and curse his nemesis even as the fool approached. "Ah, Weasley Senior…

"Albus wants to speak with Harry, Lucius; surely you won't stand in his way here in public…" Weasley said.

"And I've responded to the Headmaster multiple times, Weasley," Lucius retorted coldly, "That if Harry wanted to be seen by him, I would do nothing to prevent it, however, why don't you ask the boy yourself, he's right there…"

Smirking as the red haired man turned, only just now noticing that the boy in question was actually present, "Ah, Harry, there you are…" the man started, but Potter had already turned away.

"I'm not interested in speaking with Professor Dumbledore until after returning to Hogwarts," the boy said flatly, just a small trace of irritation.

But the Weasley patriarch was not to be deterred, "Surely you know that Professor Dumbledore only has your best interests at heart, Harry…"

"Or so he's told you…" Harry replied, casually brushing stray hair from his face, "I would prefer to have my summer in peace for the time being, but your concern is appreciated."

In a flash of movement, the man's wand was in his hand, and Lucius responded with a jerking twist on his walking stick to bring his to bear as well. The crowd, instantly noticing the raised wands and the wizards wielding them, panicked and ran to get clear.

"Lucius, if I find out that you've bewitched this child in any way, so help me…" Weasley was saying, voice trembling with suppressed rage.

"You'll likely do nothing," Lucius replied coolly, "not until your precious Dumbledore had ordered you to… besides, I can assure you that I have done nothing of the sort. Is it really so difficult to imagine that not everyone likes your Headmaster quite as much as your family…"

Glancing around quickly, he spotted a young girl with the same fiery red hair that all Weasley's sported: the perfect target for his revenge on Weasley for this moment. He had fully intended to pawn off the strange little book in Knockturn Alley, but with all the eyes on them that was now out of the question.

"We are leaving now to continue our shopping, and neither you nor your pet half-giant will stop us…" Lucius hissed menacingly, before leading his family away, casually bumping into the girl and knocking her used cauldron filled with books to the ground. It was almost too easy to simple let the little black book fall from its hidden place in his robes to join the textbooks and other items on the ground.

Offering the scrambling girl no more than a small glare, Lucius quickly led his family, and Harry, away, inwardly smirking at the small victory he had won.

Once they were a fair distance away and the frightened crowd of wizarding sheep had calmed, Lucius turned back to the rest of his group. "We'll need to work quickly and get what we need in short order before Dumbledore himself decides to show up. Narcissa, if I can urge you to take one side of the Alley, I shall gather what the boys need for this year on the other side while they are fitted for new robes. Draco, keep an eye out for anyone who may wish to try and abduct Mr. Potter from our protection."

They all agreed, and split from that moment, Draco and Harry obediently going directly to Madam Malkin's for fitting, while Lucius and Narcissa went from shop to shop, gathering only the necessities. Say what you would about his wife, Lucius thought to himself, recalling what the other Black sisters had turned out to be, but she was indeed a shrewd and intelligent woman.

It took all of twenty minutes for them to meet up again at the robe shop, where the boys were just finishing up their measurements and getting their robes made. Narcissa went inside to offer her critical opinion about coloration and such for extra clothing for the pair of them, non uniforms and the like, while Lucius stood watch.

Knowing Albus Dumbledore as he did, Lucius was in no ways surprised when the man appeared himself, alongside Severus Snape in the Alley, shortly after the Weasleys had left altogether. Turning to look inside, he met his wife's gaze, and nodded slowly. It was time for them to bid a hasty exit if they wanted to keep Harry out of the Headmaster's clutches.

That was another thing he truly loved about Narcissa. While she had no idea the reasons that Lucius wanted to protect the boy so fiercely, she accepted and worked with him toward the goal whole heartedly. He was truly lucky to have such a wife. And to think that his parents had originally considered Bellatrix for him…

They boys and Narcissa had just emerged, and the group turned toward the exit to the dingy pub, when Dumbledore spotted them. 'Curse the old man,' Lucius thought as he approached.

"Ah, Lucius, I was hoping that I would run into you here today. And Narcissa, you're looking lovely as ever. Good afternoon young Draco, Mr. Potter."

"Albus…" Lucius replied cordially, although the frost was apparent in his words at the sight of the man.

The old man's eyes twinkled maddeningly with merriment, "I had been informed that you were here with young Mr. Potter, and was hoping for a few quick words with him regarding his relatives, whom he so abruptly left the company of after promising that he would remain with the for the duration of the summer. Surely you could understand what an important thing blood is, especially in these… difficult… times…"

"I understand its need, Dumbledore," Lucius said, using a great force of will to keep his voice even, even as his hand twitched to draw his wand and kill the man before him. "However, I have also heard the story from Harry's own mouth, and he was more or less dumped on their unwelcoming doorstep by none other than you, was he not?"

The twinkle left the Headmaster's eyes, and Lucius smirked, "In addition, Harry had gracious accepted an invitation from my son to stay with us during the summer, and while I believe family to be very important, there are many circumstances where others do not think the same as I do, these muggles you stuck the boy with being a fine example of that, would you not agree, Harry?" he added, turning to the boy in question.

It was sheer delight to see the annoyance flash momentarily through the boy at being called forward, but it was more to do with speaking to Dumbledore than Lucius calling him out, it seemed, "I truly tried to fit in there, Headmaster," he said honestly, "But my relatives wanted nothing but to take advantage of me for their own gain, so I decided that I could not in good conscious live with them, so I did indeed, of my own volition, call out to Mr. Malfoy and request to spent the summer with him and his family."

"I see…" Dumbledore said, but Lucius could see the calculating mind spinning to try and come at this again from another, stronger, angle. "But surely you know that I wouldn't have placed you just anywhere without regards to your safety?"

"I do not doubt that that was your intention," Harry replied smoothly, "but I was not aware that it was your position, as Headmaster of my school, to try and control where I went during the times that you lacked authority over me. I've been more or less taking care of myself for my entire life, and I've grown quite used to making my own decisions. You trying to take that control and freedom away from me so abruptly isn't something that I will simply lay down and permit."

Dumbledore seemed to deflate slightly, and Lucius simply stood back and watched, admiring Potter for his ability to so thoroughly pierce the Headmaster's defenses and get under his skin.

"Harry…" the old man tried, but the boy overruled him.

"And another thing… I had spoken in depth to Lord Malfoy over what transpired when I returned to this country, and I must know what you were thinking was your right to effectively abduct me right out on my parent's destroyed home? Sure, I am underage, sure, my parents are dead, but still what right do you have to invade my personal liberties and imprison me in that castle, especially after so long of a time that I had to wander fields and forests at a whim? Do you even understand what that does to someone? The caged bird may sing, but usually it is not a happy song."

The Headmaster recoiled as if struck with a vicious blow, before his head sagged slightly, "I think you have given me a bit to think about Harry. Just know that I do have your best interests at heart in accordance to my actions to protect you, but if you are more than sure of your own choices, then I will not stop you, for now. Just be safe, and I'll want to meet with you to discuss this further when you return to Hogwarts."

And without another word, to Lucius' great astonishment, Albus Dumbledore slunk away, defeated by a twelve year old boy. If he wasn't already committed to Potter and gleaning every ounce of knowledge about the Twisted Nether from him, this act alone would have eliminated any doubt to his ability. Ironically, it made sense that one who routinely conversed with demons would be one of the few who could out talk the master manipulator that was Dumbledore.

By the end of the summer, Lucius had pushed the Death Eaters that were with them to perfect their ability with the Nether so that Harry gave them all his permission to make their first demonic contract. The small army of imps that they were able to summon was interesting in their destructive natures, but personally Lucius was fond of their small stature mixed with their own flare for cunning and mischief. His own imp, Tarren, was particularly vicious to the others, aside from the demonic companions of Theodore Nott, Draco and Harry, all three of whom the little creature knew were his superiors.

Lucius had also managed to convince Harry to leave copies of several of his instructional materials for them while the three boys returned to Hogwarts. It wouldn't substitute for Potter's direct instruction, but it would allow them to at least progress a bit during the times that the boy was not able to personally teach them.

Seeing off the crimson steam engine, Lucius knew that the world was about to turn on its head with the advent of this new magic, and he was internally pleased that he and his family were to be at the forefront of it all. The Dark Lord, if he returned, would not find them meek and submissive slaves as they had been before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan initially took a cabin on the train with just Theodore and Draco, content to sit the train ride in peace, but knowing the aspects of children and his own personal fame that was so undesirably thrust upon him, it was no surprise when they were barged in upon no less than ten times.

At least one of these could be forgiven however, as Hermione Granger entered and joined them, smiling in her own secret knowledge that she shared with the orc-raised human, although he was sure that the two Slytherin boys were less than happy that they were unable to discuss the finer points of Nether magic any longer.

But that didn't matter to Nobu'tan, they could wait their turns, all three of them, and even then he had no more intention to discuss the magic of Azeroth until safety in the hidden room, away from prying ears and the spies of Dumbledore, who would be likely resorting to underhanded techniques by this time, smarting from the verbal confrontation as he made it seem.

Most of their other interruptions were taken care of as quickly as they happened, some onlooker that wanted desperately to catch a glimpse of the famous Harry Potter, and once satisfied, ran away as fast as they could. It was irritating, but tolerable, compared to certain individuals that thought it was their right to just waltz in uninvited.

"So, Potter, going to petition the hat to put you in the correct house this year?" said the irritatingly boyish voice of Ronald Weasley, as the gawky thin red head leaned in the open doorway after some unsorted first year got his fill of the lightning bolt scar upon Nobu'tan's forehead.

"That would depend," the warlock answered, "Are you going to petition to get 'Hog' removed from the name of the school because you find its reference to you insulting?"

Draco, Theodore and even Hermione stifled their laughs at the clever comeback, and Nobu'tan watched with barely concealed amusement as the youngest male Weasley's fiery temper flared. But even as he attempted to stalk closer, Nobu'tan withdrew the wand from his sleeve, they all having either arrived in or changed into their school robes soon after boarding the train.

"I'd reconsider that line of thought, Weasley, even though it'll likely made your thick head hurt just coming up with it," Draco added, his own wand in hand and pointing at the red haired boy.

Glancing to his side, Nobu'tan noticed that Nott had also withdrew his wand, while Granger stood neutrally to the side, neither assisting nor interfering, probably as she shared houses with the red head and would have to hear it all year afterward if she sided with Slytherins, not that it mattered to the fact that Nobu'tan was indeed a Ravenclaw.

The idiot swallowed loudly, before backing off with a strangled scowl. After that interruption, Nobu'tan finally just locked the door with wizard magic just to end the tide of irritants. Once that was completed, the warlock contemplated his next moves.

Looking at the three people sharing his compartment, the three that he had originally shared the secrets of Azeroth's magic, two as warlocks and one as a mage, each group blissfully unaware of the other, Nobu'tan wondered if he could get the two groups to work together under him, or if it was safer to keep them ignorant of the others and their powers.

Malfoy and Nott held connections, from which had led to Lucius and his Death Eater renegades, which had indeed added seven more warlocks to his side, while on the other hand Granger was a brilliant study, had read him quick easily over a short amount of time and was presently assisting with his project with designing portals via mage and wizard magic.

But could they effectively work together? No, Nobu'tan realized that it wouldn't work well between the two groups. While Lucius had clearly risen over his hatred of muggleborn magical people over the summer, and even accepted Hermione and her parents in their very public conversation in Diagon, there was no blotting out decades of hatred and superiority. And that sentiment had clearly been passed to the other two boys, who were only permitting her presence because Nobu'tan himself had demanded it, prior.

And on the other hand, Miss Granger had high moral sentiments, she would definitely not approve of allowing the Legion into this world to burn it to ashes. She would turn on him in a heartbeat once she learned of the inevitable outcome of her research. Granted, he wasn't completely sure if the others learning to be warlocks would agree with it either, which was why he had not told anyone of the Legion's true motives.

The only possible issue in the security of that information were the demons that the other warlock's had summoned. Draco and Theodore were still children, and therefore highly unlikely to ask the all important questions of their minions, but the ones that Nobu'tan was concerned about the most were Lucius, Nott Sr. and Yaxley. Those three were the most intelligent of the Ex-Death Eaters, and would intently question Nobu'tan's motives at every turn, unless it directly benefitted them. Currently he was quite safe, as the benefit of their new magic was enough to convince them, but in time the novelty would wear off, and he would have to be cautious to keep them from asking the right questions.

"Do we know who the new Defense Professor will be?" Nobu'tan asked aloud, hoping to spark some conversation.

"Based on the book list, as well as the tiny announcement that we conveniently missed in Diagon," Draco said casually, not looking up from his game of Exploding Snap with Theodore, "It would be the celebrity Gilderoy Lockhart himself."

"Your father did not get us his books…" Nobu'tan replied, having recognized the inconsistency earlier, "I gather that that amounts to his opinion of the man."

"Indeed," Theodore replied, "My father refused to purchase his books either."

"So, you mean to say that your families think that Lockhart won't be an adequate teacher?" Hermione spoke up, setting aside her copy of ' _A Standard Book of Spells: Grade Two_ ' and watching the three boys.

Nobu'tan stepped back from the conversation, metaphorically, and watched the back and forth between the two groups ignited. The topic was innocent enough, whether this Lockhart would be a decent teacher or not, but the underlying feeling was what Nobu'tan wanted.

Both Gul'dan and Teron Gorefiend had spent a great deal of time to instruct Nobu'tan in methods of manipulating other to do his work for him, and in getting others into the right mindset to cater to his every whim. By doing this here on the train, he had just caused a sense of competition between the warlock group, lead by Draco and Nott and supported by their connections within Slytherin and through their rich families, and the mage faction, solely lead by Miss Granger, for now, and granted the boon of her massive intellect, and whomever she soon started requiting to her side.

That of course was yet to happen, and wouldn't without a nudge from Nobu'tan himself to happen. He would also do the same with the Slytherins, forming more warlocks and mages in the school in secret, all unknowing loyal to him through the three children with him. It would prove to be both useful to him in achieving his goals, and rather amusing when the bickering between Gryffindor and Slytherin started to boil over into actual fighting.

The train ride was over shortly afterward, or at least it felt that way with all the entertainment before him. Nobu'tan led the way of his bickering allies as they followed the other students along the Hogsmeade platform, to the waiting carriages that brought all but the first years to the castle.

Entering the Great Hall, the group split up to sit at their appropriate tables, and Nobu'tan was once again on his own. He could feel the sets of eyes from the Head Table boring down on him, primarily from Professors Snape and Dumbledore. Briefly he wondered how the two fools would react if he just out and told them everything.

Smirking to himself as he waited with the other Ravenclaws as the doors opened to admit the new First Years, he imagined for a moment the shock grimace on Snape's face, and the loss of the ever-present twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, the slackening of his features as he detailed exactly what he was up to and what the Burning Legion had in store for his precious world.

Slowly dismissing the bubble of sinister pleasure that threatened to cause him to burst into sardonic laughter, Nobu'tan forced himself to pay attention to the lines of first years. The eleven year olds were a odd lot, nervous and frightened to be sudden thrust into a full room so very packed with people, but through his connection to the magic of the castle, Nobu'tan picked out a few that seemed more interesting than the rest.

He made it a special note, during the Sorting Hats ridicules song, to pay attention to whom these few were and where they were sorted. There were only a few children that actually made that list. A tiny boy that was swiveling his head like a top, trying to take everything in at once caught Nobu'tan's eye, along with an almost airy girl with dirty-blonde hair and a near-vacant expression, and finally the fiery red head of a Weasley. It took all of a moment to recognize the youngest daughter of the family, which Nobu'tan had seen at Diagon recently.

Three out of an entire class, it was actually quite a good amount. But there was still the question of how to twist these new acquisitions to his side. Thankfully, the answer was provided by the hat itself, as it sorted the boy and the Weasley girl into Gryffindor, while the blonde girl came to the house of the wise.

Throughout the rest of the feast, Nobu'tan kept relatively to himself, mulling over the possibilities. It seemed that this year had provided him the issue of providing Miss Granger with more mages to train for him, which in turn would put pressure on the warlocks to try and keep up with her growing circle, once they learned of what the mages could do that was.

Who knew how much fun it was to micro manage a pair of warring, or yet to be warring, factions at once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus did not like the look on Potter's face throughout the opening feast. That boy was indeed up to something, and a sidelong glance at Albus confirmed that there was some sort of scheme afoot here.

Soon after the students were dismissed, Severus waited for the Headmaster to finish with Minerva and Filius so that he could approach without being overheard. "Potter..." he said simply, and the old Headmaster nodded, before they started the trek up to Albus' office, the most protected area in the castle from being overheard from anyone.

"There is something seriously wrong with that boy, Headmaster," Severus said in all brutal honesty, "I cannot prove what he's up to, but with each event since he left this castle, its far more obvious that he is playing some sort of game with those around him."

"While I will not try to cover for Harry, especially with the given suspiciousness regarding his stay with Lucius Malfoy," Albus said, taking his seat behind his desk, "But I cannot believe that a twelve year old boy would be behind something terribly elaborate or malicious."

Severus was about to argue, but the powerful wizard held up a hand, "Nevertheless, Severus I do agree that we need to keep a close eye on Harry's movements while he is here, especially if he is intent on continuing to flee from us once summer returns. I trust you are already keeping your eye on both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott in your own house."

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus affirmed. He had fully intended to have private words with the pair of them regarding their summer activities. He was their Head of House, they would not dare to try and cross him here.

"Good, I will see about getting Professor McGonagall to keep her eyes on Miss Granger, and that will cover all of the student contacts that Harry had made in the previous year without revealing our suspicion of the boy himself." Albus said, nodding. It seemed that there was still a great weight on the old man's shoulders, but Severus hesitated before trying to breach the topic, but the Headmaster beat him to it.

"I am growing rather old, Severus, despite appearances…" the man explained, "and I fear that wars with two dark lords, and the fright of losing and suddenly regaining Harry is taking its toll on me."

Severus was immediately uncomfortable with the line of conversation, and regretted even indicating that he wanted to pursue it. Bidding a hasty retreat before the man waxed too philosophical about life and death and an old man's worries, Severus escaped down to his domain in the bowels of the castle, amid he fumes and bubbling of cauldrons and his own musings on what the spawn of Potter was up to.

Despite what Albus may choose to believe, Severus knew that the boy was brilliant, as much as he'd not want to admit it, but it was almost dangerous how sharp Potter's intellect was. The fact that the boy, with the aid of a few spells, was able to learn the English language in a single year, along with all the magical education that normally went on in the first year. One would have been impressed with barely passing under those circumstances.

But the boy had done more than just pass, he had excelled. Grudgingly Severus had to acknowledge that the boy seemed to be innately talented whenever magic was concerned, including potions. In fact the boy seemed to have a special interest for Severus' preferred subject.

It was almost a pity that Severus had minimal contact, by choice, with the boy, as he usually wasn't one to pass up such raw talent when he had to opportunity to mold another genius with the simmering cauldron. Momentarily Severus wondered if the Headmaster was going to insist on the private lessons that had barely managed to start before the chaos at the end of the previous year due to the fiasco with the stone and Quirrell.

But there was still something that the Potion's Master had difficulty placing. During previous summers, he had managed to maintain a specific closeness to the Malfoy family, not anything particularly meaningful, but a working association at least as close as any of the other former Death Eaters. Unfortunately, it seemed over the course of one handful of weeks with Potter, and Lucius was all of a sudden avoiding and blocking him from even entering the spacious manor with the other former associates of the Dark Lord.

It was disconcerting, that his remnants of his previous spying in the end of the first war had all but caved in now, and it all occurred around the same time that Potter reentered the picture. There were little things that were coincidences as far as Severus was concerned, and this was far too strange an occurrence to be so benign.

Irritatingly, Severus' job would have been so much easier if the boy had simply been in Gryffindor. Minerva had so much on her plate, between being Head of the house of lions as well as Deputy Headmistress and the Transfiguration Professor, that she rarely had the time to actually devote her attention to those students under her care, which made it all the more likely that Severus would end up responsibly for monitoring Granger as well as the Slytherin 'friends' of Potter.

Filius Flitwick on the other hand, only had his Charms classes in addition to watching over the Ravenclaws as their Head of House, and had ample time to actually care for the little oddities and quirks that cropped up in his students. Or at least, the ones that he managed to catch. Severus wasn't naive enough to believe that the diminutive part human was immune to the failings of his house, and sometimes got so caught up in the academics of something, like his own projects, that he sometimes overlooked the social or emotional aspect of things around him.

But the downside was that he was observant enough to hinder any attempt that Severus might make to take the watching of Potter into his own hands, much as he would be with the Gryffindor Granger. And the Dueling Champion was not one to cross under any circumstances.

Sighing with irritation, Severus set aside the class notes he was working on for his N.E.W.T. classes and decided to go address Slytherin house for his usual start of term words of warning and advice.

Sweeping into the common room, he felt a small molecule of pride that the entire house was waiting, despite the new first years seeming to almost drift off from their full bellies and overwhelming excitement wearing off, but they held themselves with as much dignity as they could as their Head of House came to speak with them all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco personally wanted nothing more than to go to bed already, but diligently he waited in one of the plush armchairs as Professor Snape swept in, addressing them as a house. "Another year had started," he began without preamble, "and it another opportunity for us as a house to prove that Slytherin in the most cunning and ambitious of the four houses in Hogwarts."

Glancing around at all of them with his cold black eyes, the Potions Master lingered on each of the new First Years, before working his way through the house by year. "If there arise any problems, I expect you to look to your prefects for assistance, only turning to me as a last resort. A major part of Slytherin is learning to make your own connections and working together to overcome challenges."

Draco felt the gaze of his Head of House on him again, and wondered why the man as so attentive to him of all people. He wasn't one of the students that caused problems, but them he remembered. Harry was probably under extreme observation now that they were back in the castle, and it was logical that those who were closest to him would also be watched. So his own Head of House was to spy on him and Theodore. It was rather disappointing, at one time he greatly respected Professor Snape as a brilliant Slytherin and gifted Potions Master, but if he was truly throwing in his lot with Dumbledore, then it explained why the man had been blocked from his usual summer visits with Draco's father.

Then again, it more than made sense, as they were all busy learning magic that would change the course of the world, putting the wizards firmly back at the height of their power once again, and of course a muggle loving fool like Dumbledore would want to keep that down, and Snape would do as Dumbledore told him to.

"And finally," the Head of Slytherin said, bringing Draco's attention back to him, albeit more out of curious observation rather than any devotion or respect. "Be wary of our new Defense Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. I presume that most of your families have already told you of this man and his rather outlandish tales. Work together to learn what you can for your tests, especially theses in fifth and seventh years, you can expect that this fool will end up teaching you very little."

Finally the man swept away just as abruptly as he entered, electing a swarm of muttering from most of Slytherin regarding his words about Lockhart. The Prefects leapt into action, herding the First through Third years away from the conversations, demanding that they go to their dormitories and go to bed so that they could function tomorrow, and put a strong face out to the rest of the school in their first impression for the year.

Draco caught Theo's eye and nodded once, breaking off of the group of second years and heading to the bathroom upon pretext of cleaning their teeth before sleep. "Didn't happen to catch some of what Professor Snape was saying did you?" Theo said, to which Draco nodded.

"There was some that I ignored, but the gist of it was that were going to be watched closer than ever because of our closeness to Harry…" Draco said.

"Indeed," the other boy replied, glancing at their reflections in the mirrors of the green and silver tiled room, before glancing at his own hands. "I still wonder, now and again if it's going to be worth it for this…"

Theo broke off at a sharp glance from Draco, even as the bathroom door opened and some other first and second years entered to use the facilities before bed. Ending their conversation, the pair returned to their dorm disappeared behind their four poster curtains.

Lying in bed, Draco thought about Theo's last words before they were interrupted. Was it indeed worth it? Thinking about the rush of power that he felt every time he touched the magic of the Nether, and the wonder that it caused that outshined anything he had experienced before, he smirked to himself as he settled into a comfortable position in the center of his mattress.

It was most assuredly worth it, if at least for the novelty of finding something about magic that was new and exciting, with a great promise of power for himself and his family for time to come.


	19. C18: Factional Creation

**Thanks to those who review, Keep up the great support, and enjoy the new chapter. ~F**

 **Chapter Eighteen**

 **Factional Creation**

Albus watched the Ravenclaw Table closely the next day at breakfast. While he had had to admit that the Dursleys had not been the best fit for Harry, he was still smarting that, of all people, the boy had run off with the Malfoys, his political rivals and counterpoints, Albus' own achievements and positions notwithstanding. He wouldn't allow that fact to gall him into foolish action however, but he was going to make absolutely certain that the boy was not up to anything untoward, especially with his propensity to magic that was different, and had the appearance of being Dark in nature.

Thankfully, between Filius promising to keep his eyes on the young man, along with the extra potions lessons from Severus, that would help alleviate the possibility of something happening with, or to, the boy.

Albus also had to think up a reason to get Harry into his office again to press the matter of learning about the knowledge of this Arcane magic that the boy so easily practiced, so similar to the ancient arts of the Druids, and Merlin. The more he looked at the question of Harry's upbringing, the more he saw the ancient wizard's influence, especially when Harry had mentioned his freedom to walk through field and forest at will.

Who else but the ancient Druids still traveled through the countryside for any reason? The wizards of today had no such need, as they were all completely caught up in their lives and monetary influences, Lucius included, so that had to mean that the boy had been raised by one who was without such needs or propensities.

Albus knew that it was a farfetched idea, but he wanted it to be the truth, as opposed to who-knew what else it might possibly be. There were so many dangers in their world, and it worried the Headmaster to think what might have happened if Harry hadn't been so fortunate to return to them at this time.

Of course, Albus' internal thought process was rather difficult this morning because of the loud and unnecessary prattling of their newest member of staff, Gilderoy Lockhart. Honestly, Albus wondered for a split second how the man was eating if he continuously kept talking, citing random misinformation from his ridicules books to 'show off' how brilliant and intelligent he was.

Albus would never have signed on the man, except for the fact that failure to find a professor would give the Ministry opportunity to shove their unwanted nose into the school and appoint one of their own in the place of a qualified individual, and once in, the politics of the Ministry would never allow control to be wrested from them ever again.

So, they had to put up with this liar and fraud for a year, and hope for a much better candidate in future. It wore on Albus, that Tom had so effectively demolished the ability for the students to learn proper defense against the Dark Arts, ever since Albus himself denied the dark lord his wanted position, and the ability to cultivate his own private army of loyal students.

Just then, the familiar nest of black hair entered the great hall, and Albus lost all thought of Gilderoy or Voldemort, and focused his attention to making sure that Harry was not up to anything throughout the meal. Aside from casual conversation with his housemates, and the affectionate nod or wave to his friends from other houses as they also entered for breakfast, Albus couldn't see anything that was out of the ordinary, although the boy seemed to have some sort of nervous tick in his left hand, which was placed on the table while he ate.

Strange, but Albus would review that later. Glance around at those who were known to be close with Harry, Albus was surprised to find that both Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, and Miss Granger were all occasionally casting glances toward the Ravenclaw table, before returning to their own conversations, or book in the case of Mrs. Granger.

How odd… it was as though they were awaiting some sort of message. Then it hit Albus, Harry's left hand. Refocusing on Harry, more subtly this time, Albus watched from behind his own food as the boy rhythmically tapped, slid over, or knocked upon the tabletop. It was ingenious, the perfect cover for delivering simple messages to other students across the Great Hall. Granted, Albus did not yet know what the message meant, and it could be completely innocent, such as a time to meet up for homework review, but just in case Albus would have a teacher, probably Severus, watch where the three went today.

Meanwhile, Albus himself would review the memory of this event carefully, and once Severus returned with his information, it shouldn't be too difficult to decipher what exactly the coded messages meant. Satisfied, Albus sat back and enjoyed the rest of his meal, knowing that he was doing what he could to make sure that Harry was safe, even from himself if need be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that he was being watched the moment he entered for Breakfast. Dumbledore was not nearly as subtle as he thought he was, especially when one had trained in stealth and detection from the masters of the Burning Blade clan for a period of months. That had been a rough, but highly worthwhile experience, although he still had a few scars from their more exuberant members.

Still, it was unlikely that their little meetings would go on in secret for much longer, so the warlock pretended to not notice as he sent the message for Hermione to met with him on the fourth floor, in an unused storage room just before dinner. He still intended to proceed with his plans, and let the Archmage and his spies try to understand their doom. Hermione was already a mage, and progressing magnificently even without his continual tutelage, and soon she would understand that she could find and teach those whom she felt worthy, and Nobu'tan would be able to let her go about on her own for a while, unsupervised.

Sure, if Dumbledore found out that Nobu'tan had trained another, he would be rather put out that he had been ignored, but the warlock was ready if the man wanted to push for learning the power of the Arcane. There was more than one way for the young warlock to diffuse the old man's dreams of plumbing every secret out of him.

But he had some time before he had to worry about any of that, as after the meal there were classes to attend to, such as Defense against the Dark Arts, with Slytherin House first thing after breakfast. Or at least that was what his schedule had said. When Nobu'tan arrived in the classroom however, he found the rest of his classmates from both Houses present, but no sign of their Professor.

Quickly taking a seat at the rear of the room with Draco and Theodore, the young warlock looked questioningly at the pair of them, and received shrugs of confusion in response. "The door was unlocked but Lockhart's not even here…" Theodore explained.

"The fraud's probably gotten cold feet and run off…" Draco said sarcastically, earning a few glared from nearby girls who had not gotten seats closest to the front of the room.

It wasn't for nearly a half hour into the class period that the man finally showed up, smiling broadly in a rather ridicules turquoise robes, complete with matching hat sitting upon his gold hair. "I think I'm going to be sick…" Draco said quietly as the man passed their seats to the front of the room, twirling on the spot and flashing an unnaturally bright smiled at them all, as though that would excuse his own tardiness.

"Pardon my lateness, class, I was caught up assisting dear professor Sprout with tending to a Whomping Willow that you all are quite lucky to have on the grounds. The poor plant had a bit of root rot that was making it ever so unpleasant, and I just happened to have met several of these exotic plant on my travels, and couldn't help but lend my expertise to doctoring it."

The rest of the class surged in mild interest, but Nobu'tan could tell from across the room that the man was lying through his teeth. One was not raised by the master of deceit without picking up the ability to tell when one was being lied to, and this was a classic case of pure fiction being thrown at the unobservant from the tics and signs of a professional liar.

Of course, the advantage was that the man, who clearly loved to hear himself talk to mindless sheep blathered on for the remainder of the class period, effectively wasting all of their time until the bell rang, and all those that had bothered to expect any sort of lesson packed away their things. Draco, Theo and Nobu'tan had done nothing of the sort, and were almost to the door when the young warlock felt someone place a hand on his shoulder, "Ah, Harry… how lovely to see you. Might I have a word before you go off to you next lesson… Wonderful…"

Before Nobu'tan could give any excuse as to why he wanted nothing to do with the man, Lockhart was already gently pulling him back into the room, while the two Slytherins watched with annoyance on Nobu'tan's behalf.

"Harry… Harry, Harry, Harry," the man said slowly, shaking his head as though he was a favored uncle or something. "You know I've heard all about the little stunt that happened in Diagon Alley the day of my book signing, between you and Professor Dumbledore, and I have to say, one established celebrity to another rising star that you probably don't want to start off you career with that sort of spotlight events. Arguing in broad daylight, what would the papers say? I mean, Harry… you were probably inspired to do something because of my presence, so I can hardly blame anyone but myself, natural that you would want to get your feet wet with publicity, but one needs to start small when they're so early in the career, there's plenty of time for the big stuff when your older and more well known. I mean, sure some people have heard of you through that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I know, it's not as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have… but it's a start, Harry… it's a start. Just don't push yourself too much, enjoy you young life before it's gone, and then worry about your fame… just think about it, alright? Now off you trot, I have another class to prepare for the afternoon…"

And, giving a tremendously creepy wink at Nobu'tan, the man ushered him to the door of the classroom, closing it behind the thoroughly confused warlock as though nothing was wrong at all.

It took a good long few moments for Nobu'tan to sort through what had just happened, but once it did the anger that threatened to bubble to the surface was quite dangerously frightening, even for the warlock. That disgusting fraud of a man had the audacity to make light of him like that did he? Lockhart had no idea with whom or what he was trifling with. If Nobu'tan had less self control, or more care toward his blood family he probably would have done something drastic, and bloody, right then and there, but self preservation dominated all action, and he hurried away to catch up with the other Ravenclaws, who were on their way to Potions with the Hufflepuffs down in the dungeons.

Lockhart had started to cross a dangerous line, with his presumptuous half-threats regarding what Nobu'tan was up to. Naturally the man was only concerned with the fact that he, as the great and famous 'Harry Potter,' was more likely to get attention from sneezing than Lockhart would for his entire life's work, and had decided to try and quell as much of the world's perceived attention to Nobu'tan as possible, only for the sake of promoting himself of course.

Well, actually, that wasn't a half bad thing for Nobu'tan, he mused as he descended the stairs to the dungeons, catching up with the rear line of blue robed second years. The only flaw was that Lockhart was clearly incompetent at anything he said or did that there was no way that he would actually draw attention to himself for more than a few moments over some colossal failure or another from time to time, but the idea still was brilliant.

If Nobu'tan could set up another as a famous figurehead, he would be able to slip under the radar unnoticed by anyone at last, but the question was how exactly to go about doing that…

This thought plagued him all through the Potions' class, and even though Snape was breathing down his neck, looking for anything out of place, on Dumbledore's orders no doubt, the warlock was still able to enjoy the brewing of a new potion that they had been assigned for the first day of classes and work on his new idea. Perhaps Miss Granger and the two Slytherin boys would be able to fulfill multiple roles at once for him…

And, if his distractions couldn't have gotten any worse that day, he was persuaded down to one of the courtyards after lunch by Hermione to discuss Lockhart's classes. Unfortunately, Nobu'tan was distracted from any sort of conversation by the sensation of being intently watched. Looking up from the book he was skimming as the girl asked him questions regarding the defense class that morning, Nobu'tan saw a small, mousy-haired first year boy staring back at him transfixed.

The Gryffindor boy was clutching what looked like an ordinary muggle camera, which was already a strange enough devise for the warlock who had been raised in a technologically deficient world. The moment their eyes locked and the boy recognized that he had been caught staring he flushed bright red.

"All right, Harry?" I'm… I'm Colin Creevey," the boy said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward, partially seeming to try and embolden himself to address Nobu'tan. "I was just wondering… D'you think… would it be all right if… can I have a picture?" he said finally, raising the camera hopefully.

Nobu'tan blinked… twice, before even thinking about responding. "Why would you want anything like that…" he said bluntly, but it seemed to do very little to stopping the boy's desire.

"So I can prove I've met you," the boy continued eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead!" he said all of this very fast, his eyes raking across Nobu'tan hairline for a glimpse of same said scar, "And, a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the picture'll move!" the child drew in a great shuddering breath of excitement at that and kept talking, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you…" he looked imploringly at Nobu'tan again, "maybe your friends could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

Nobu'tan just gaped at this child, his impatience and irritation growing. But he restrained himself from exerting his frustrations on an ignorant child. "I think that would be a bit much right now, but I'll let you have just one picture of me with some of my friends, as lunch is about to end soon, so we all need to hurry back to classes shortly," he said diplomatically. The boy looked a little sad, but accepted, quickly snapping a picture of Nobu'tan and Hermione before dashing off.

"You'll need to watch out for that one," Nobu'tan said congenially as they started to go their separate ways, Hermione back inside the castle for Defense with Lockhart the fraud, while Nobu'tan went with the other Ravenclaws down to Herbology with the Slytherins again.

"Yes, it seems he may get into trouble if he keeps listening to the wrong kids," Hermione said concernedly.

"We'll talk later," Nobu'tan promised, reminding her of their scheduled meeting before dinner, and she nodded before they dashed apart to catch up with their respective classes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione hadn't been sure about Harry's thoughts on Lockhart, but just one class with the man had been more than suspicious. Not only had they actually learned next to nothing, unless you counted a test regarding the man's personal life and desires, but Professor Lockhart had decided that it would be a good idea to release Cornish Pixies into a classroom full of twelve year olds with limited magical education.

Fortunately, Hermione was not an ordinary second year. The threat presenting itself cause her to immediate rise to defend her class, a single arcane blast knocking the first pixie to come at her right out of the sky, before Hermione concentrated and unleashed a small storm of arcane bolts around the room, the magical missiles flying after the speeding pixies, dislodging and stunning each in turn as they attempted to rampage around the classroom.

Within moments she had over half of the little pests on the ground, stunned, and was focusing in on the remainder that were attempting to lift Neville Longbottom right off the ground. Her wand completely forgotten, Hermione dug deeply into the wellspring of magic beneath them, and unleashed a small torrent of power, causing an eruption of arcane magic around her, sparks and purple magical energy exploding all around her, causing negligible damage to her classmates or the objects, while it sent her true targets, the pixies, rocketing into the walls on all sides, knocking them senseless and allowing the last stragglers, Neville included, to bolt from the room.

She gave Lockhart one look, and all thoughts of her short lived infatuation with the pretty boy utterly wasting away in that one moment as he looked frightened by her rather than the devastation he had unleashed in his own classroom, and had been powerless to stop on his own, his own wand having been tossed out the window by the pixies mere moments into the chaos.

Hermione turned and walked away, more irritated by the lack of any sort of thanks from the Professor. She was so focused that she didn't notice that all her classmates had waited for her just around the corner, and cheered loudly when she appeared, the girls giving her hugs while the boys demanded to know what it was she had done to defeat the pixies so quickly.

She dismissed the questions with her usual answer of 'studying in the library,' which seemed to convince the vast majority of them, before the bell rang for them all to go down to dinner, but Hermione hung back, allowing their group of second years to travel ahead of her, so that they did not see when she took a different turn on the third floor, and double back up a side staircase that took her near one of the usual meeting places that she had come up with Harry and the two Slytherin boys last year.

She wasn't surprised to find that Harry had beaten her to the room, although he seemed to have come straight there from their class out in the greenhouses, as his forehead was still lightly coated in sweat, but that didn't matter at the moment to her.

"I felt the Arcane magic that you let off today," he said without preamble, "What did Lockhart do to provoke you of all people?"

Hermione shrugged, "Released wild magical creatures on a class of twelve year olds, I took care of it…" she responded simply.

"Unsurprising, considering the fool who is _teaching_ us…" Harry said, accepting the reasoning she had given. "But I suppose you may have drawn unwanted attention from not only the Headmaster, but your fellow classmates in Gryffindor…"

Hermione hadn't thought about the ramifications, but before she could reply, Harry had pressed onward, "However, this may work to our favor, especially with the task I think it is time for you to embark upon."

That caught her interest, "What task do you mean by chance?"

"The task…" Harry said, pausing as he turned to gaze out the window across the darkening grounds, "of training more Magi, followers of the Arcane arts. You have progressed far in the time since I first revealed it to you, and I think you are ready to pass on knowledge to other while still moving forward on your own."

"I…" Hermione paused, suddenly uncomfortable, "I don't know if I can teach others that easily… that's also assuming that people will listen to me…" she added, growing insecure.

"After this afternoon, I doubt that you'll have to even look far for people begging to learn your ' _defense_ ' magic. I will simply give you a list of qualities to look for in potential mages, as well as a few locations and times that you can train them secretly, and leave the rest to you… You will be the grand face of this new faction of magic users, while I operate behind the scenes, supporting and guiding you to revolutionizing the Wizarding World."

Hermione's eyes widened. Harry had unknowingly struck her secret goal. When she had been introduced to this world, especially the less than progressive aspects of it, and the highly conservative nature of their government, she had wanted nothing more than to aid this world by bringing it closer to the muggle counterpart in how laws and order was handled. But the problem was that she would be fighting against the tide of complacency and backwards thinking.

With Harry's help, and a new method of magic in the form of the Arcane mages however, she could be poised on a tide of change that would be able to force the stubborn wizards to accept new ideas, even those which were muggle in origin. "I… yes, I see how this will work," she said, nodding, "I'll go through with this, and organize a cluster of Arcane users in Hogwarts, starting in Gryffindor. I presume you have a list of people to approach or make sure to recruit over others?"

Harry smiled, "You know me well," he said, producing a list on parchment. "You will want to avoid most of the Slytherins for the time being, until your ranks have swollen enough to tempt them away from their pureblood manic ways. And here," he added, pulling out a second sheet, "is the list of prerequisites for new Mages. I figure you want to do a bit of practice now to sharpen your skills one more time before you more or less no your own. I'll make sure that skills I know make their way into your hands so that you can continue to improve while bringing the rest of the new mages into the fold."

Hermione nodded, she had been looking forward to revealing some of her new skills to Harry, and relished his look of surprise when she transfigured him temporarily into a sheep, as well as protecting herself from one of his attacks by freezing herself in a block of ice.

It was nearly halfway through dinner when they called it quits to make sure they had something to eat. Hermione was greatly surprised when Harry took extra time to make sure that they were not being observed as they made their way down to the Great Hall. As they separated to their respective tables, Hermione had much to do and talk about.

Just as Harry had expected, many of the Gryffindors were ecstatic at what she had done to protect the other second years, and students from first to seventh year wanted to learn how she had done it, even a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws wandered over to ask the same. For the time being she hinted at the likelihood of herself being persuaded, but for them moment needing time to think about it, and enjoyed her dinner.

Casting a sidelong glance toward Harry, she spotted the boy watching her with a wide smile, and nodding his approval at her choices. With his help, she would indeed usher in a new order of magic users, and change the world for the better. This was her aspiration, and she wanted nothing more than for it to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus didn't know how it was possible, but Potter, blast that boy, just knew that he was being spied on when he met in secret with Granger before dinner. And damn him, he allowed it to happen, just sat there smiling as he discussed forming a new coalition of magic users with Granger, magic that he had tried to deny Albus' the knowledge of but had freely given to the Gryffindor girl, and was now trying to spread out through the house of lions, and others that met a list of qualities that he himself had created.

As the pair had left for the Great Hall, the boy had looked directly at Severus and just smirked, like there was nothing he could do to stop the Ravenclaw boy or something, but that was madness, he had all the ability to halt this charade long before it could occur.

Locking eyes with Albus as he entered the Great Hall, sometime after the pair of students, he nodded, indicating that he had the information that they wanted. The old man nodded slightly in response, his eyes flickering to Granger first, then Potter.

They had agreed that, if Granger knew anything of importance, they had to question her first, before confronting Potter about his revealing of this unknown magic to another. Although, Severus was dubious about what authority Albus had to deny or control Potter's use of his own knowledge. At the same time, he knew and understood the need that Albus felt in making absolutely certain that this magic was not Dark or dangerous in any fashion.

It was requisite for the pair of them to meet again, but the other Professors would start to grow rather unsettled if they noticed the pair of them hanging back every dinner to discuss unknown topics, so they decided that they would simply part ways as normal after mealtimes, and meet in secret after curfew when Severus was not meant to patrol the corridors.

Therefore, it was with his usual briskness that Severus ate, completely ignoring the others at the Head Table, especially Lockhart, and made his way out and back to the dungeons almost immediately after the meal was dismissed.

He did not, however, remain in his quarters after arriving there. The school had a very useful inter-castle Floo network that only the staff had any access to, so Severus was able to quickly travel up to the Headmaster's office through the fireplace, and wait just inside the man's office for him to return from dinner.

Soon enough the sound of the gargoyle grinding aside down below could be heard, and Severus ducked into a shadowy corner just in case the Headmaster was not alone. Mercifully, the man was not, and he soon entered the office, glancing sidelong at Severus' corner before going straight to his desk.

"Granger knows far more than she or Potter have let on," Severus began quickly, not trusting that some other professor might be on their way to meet with the Headmaster as well.

"Undoubtedly," Albus replied, "so we should question her regarding where Harry had been during his absence?"

Severus shook his head, "As to that, I doubt she knows more than we do, however…" he paused, glancing around at the gossipy portraits around the room, before shrugging it off, these would not betray the current Headmaster, even if they'd disagree with his policy. "She is blatantly and obviously learning the Arcane magic that Potter knows, and they are plotting to start teaching it to others, without your consent or knowledge of it."

It seemed that Albus had not expected that to be what Severus had to report. He leaned back for a long moment, seeming to sigh in remorse. "It is as I feared; Harry doesn't trust us in the slightest."

"Should we work to stop either of them from spreading this magical knowledge around the school?" Severus asked, willing to act immediately to quell this action.

"Upon what grounds?" Albus countered, "We would need evidence that Harry's magic is indeed dangerous, even if it is strange or forgotten, we cannot do much to prevent it, and going to Miss Granger directly would only prove to Harry that we do not trust him to do the right thing and alienate him all the more. How could we work with him to defeat Voldemort when he returns if the one prophesized to defeat him will not so much as tell us the truth?"

"So, you think we ought to do nothing?" Severus said disapprovingly. The sheer amount of doubletalk and second guessing that the Headmaster had gone through in regards to Potter was starting to get very irritating.

"Of course not," Albus said, frowning slightly, which looked extremely strange on the usually congenial, almost grandfatherly face. "We will still approach Miss Granger, but not in regards to Harry or his teachings, yet. We need to win her rapport and through her we will be able to learn of Harry's secrets without having to go about it too openly."

"I suppose that may work…" Severus admitted, but he still had his reservations about trying to simply trick either of the twelve year olds regarding the Arcane magic that they were trying to keep secret between them.

"When will your private lessons with Harry begin?" Albus said out of the blue.

"At least three weeks into term," he responded automatically, before registering what the man was referring to.

"Good," Albus said before Severus could catch and change his response, "You will keep those to standard potions, while allowing Harry to flourish in what he likes to do, passively observing what he attempts to create and for what purposes. Keep some sort of record of it for us both to review at a later time; otherwise we will leave them to their own devises for the time being; only interfering if we see some sort of danger regarding this experiment of theirs."

"I understand…" Severus replied, turning back toward the fireplace and his ticket to freedom from dealing with any more madness for one evening.

Strangely, he was allowed to retreat all the way back to his own office without being called back for once. It was rather odd, as usually Albus had some strange need to always have the last word when it came to their little chats, but Severus supposed that this issue with the Arcane magic and Potter was indeed far more consuming for the old man to deal with than his usual start of term complications.

Sighing aloud and moving to his private stores of Firewhisky, Severus poured a sizeable amount to try and relieve the stress of his last few hours. Not to mention the pressure that he would be under in trying to spy on a distrustful child, that if it had been anyone else would have been nothing to the former Death Eater, but as it was Potter's spawn, it came not only with Severus' own baggage regarding the boy and his family, but the extenuating strangeness that seemed to surround the boy and his abilities.

Whatever the outcome for all of this, Severus had some inkling that there would be some disastrous consequences if he did not tread carefully in these assignment to give the boy private potions lessons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was somewhat concerned throughout the day when Harry didn't come and speak to him and Theo after the massive upheaval of Arcane Magic that occurred partway before lunch. Originally he had be under the presumption that only the two Slytherins had been taught any of the unique and powerful magic that Harry knew, but if that wasn't the case now, then who had also be given the knowledge…

Outside of himself, Theodore and the adults that had taken up the cause of the warlock, there were none other that had extensive time along with Harry to even merit such trust or magical knowledge…

Then realization struck Draco… Granger… the only other one that fit the conditions was the Gryffindor. She had to have been taught by Potter, and therefore she had to have revealed her abilities to some of the other students, if not teachers, which could only mean one thing. The girl was planning to, or would have to inevitably, share her abilities with others and teach more to be able to wield her strange magic. It was clear to Draco from the feeling he sensed through the Void that it wasn't more Fel Magic, but something completely different.

It was similar, to be sure, but the feeling of the magic was strangely off… or was it more that the usualness of Fel Magic was off from this magic. What he had felt was something purer and more akin to the earth beneath them than the powers of the Void.

Granted, not that the nature of the magic mattered, it was the fact that the girl had started to attract unnecessary attention, and knowing the stuck up muggleborn, she'd start teaching it to as many as would listen to her, making many new Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw magic users, but likely no Slytherin.

There was an unfair balance of power there, with Granger growing in power and followers and soon would eclipse the fledgling warlocks, which would swing power away from them and potential reveal the entire existence of the warlocks and Harry's master plan for them. Draco couldn't stand by and allow this to happen, so he was going to remedy it, Harry's permission or not. Slytherin house would readily welcome the powers that the life of a warlock would offer, and starting in his year, Draco and Theodore could easily start teaching many candidates.

Then perhaps Harry would give the Slytherins and future warlocks the attention that they deserved, over even Granger and her group. And if not… perhaps they would simply have to destroy one another until only one organization remained, and that one would be the group that Harry had to use to fulfill the plans of collecting the items needed by the demon.

As much as Draco suspected the Harry would continue his plan regardless of which group followed him, it was important to him that his family be promoted by this venture. They were already hard at work trying to get access to the Grimoire of Merlin out of the Department of Mysteries.

From what he had relayed to Harry via his father, the task was going to be long and difficult, especially with the British Ministry trying to deny that such a powerful artifact even existed at all. Lucius' influence only extended so far, and even then the Department of Mystery was an entity in and of itself.

That was the extent of what Draco was aware of regarding that situation, but the task was far more important to protect their interest in this mission. "Theo…" Draco said quietly as they were preparing for bed that night, "You felt that blast of magic today I presume…"

"Yes, but I figured it was nothing too concerning… but…" Theodore replied, growing uncomfortable with his original thought. "You don't think it was someone other than Harry?"

"I think exactly that," Draco said, turning away from the others as they entered the dormitory room for the second year Slytherins, "and we need to start sharing our power with others in Slytherin to protect our interests. I'm concerned that this person is going to start teaching their own branch of magic to others in the other three houses, we need to adapt to this new world if we are to compete with the growing tide of new magic. The wand-based power of wizards simply won't be enough in the future."

"I agree," Theodore said, "but who can we trust to keep the secret of our power to themselves for the time being?"

"I can think of a few, Blaise for one, as he's already keeping so many secrets about his own family. He's pure Slytherin as it is. Crabbe and Goyle's fathers are already part of the movement, so they would be safe options, even if teaching them may be difficult."

"So all the second year boys, perhaps the first years can be pressured into silence, and their relatives that are currently in school," Theodore added, to which Draco nodded, "otherwise, after that moment I will confront Harry and tell him what we are doing, and that he can either support us or stand aside and let us grow in power without his guidance. He will have little choice if we are to help him acquire the artifacts for his precious demon…"

"Hey Malfoy, Nott, are you two just going to stand around chatting secretly all night, or can we finally go to bed?" Blaise Zabini said harshly from his bed, where he was waiting to close his four-poster and go to bed once the lights were out.

"If you only understood what we were discussing and its ramifications on not only your life, but the entire world…" Draco said slyly, knowing that regardless of what the boy would retort his interest would be aroused.

"Yeah, yeah, big plans, whatever, I'd like to sleep now…" Blaise said rudely.

Draco simply nodded, and both Slytherins went to bed, allowing the lights to disperse. Draco rested poorly that night, wondering what Granger would be up to in the near future, and how quickly they'd have to move to counter her attempts to promote her group over the warlocks.

It wouldn't be hard if they accelerated as much as possible, but the issue would be remaining under the radar of Dumbledore and the Professors while they did it. Maintaining their wizarding education was the top priority to make sure that no one caught on to their alternative instruction.

As he expected, the boy's tune changed by breakfast the next day, once out of earshot of both Crabbe and Goyle, "So… big plans you said last night…" Blaise started casually, and Draco almost smiled as he turned to look at the Italian boy.

"Well, it depends on whether you can accept some massive changes in you methods of thinking and viewing the world around you?" he said cryptically, watching Zabini for his reaction. The boy seemed to be further interested.

"You must not know me well, Draco Malfoy," Blaise said, smirking, "I've been tired of the way this world is since I was seven, any massive change will only be more interesting than the way life is now, so bring it on."

"Excellent," Draco replied, smirking at Theodore, who had positioned himself on the other side of Blaise, blocking others nearby from listening in. "Then just sit tight, there's a few others we need to contact regarding this thing before we get started, maybe the end of the week we'll start it up, bear with us until then."

"Sure sure…" Blaise said, already turning back to his food.

Draco knew that there'd be a few that had still managed to over hear what they were hinting at with Zabini, but at least they would have to approach him directly to get any details. It wasn't likely, but Draco wasn't willing to let anything slip through his fingers to Professor Snape… and through him to Dumbledore. He would not want to face Harry after allowing his dark and powerful secret escape to their effective enemy.

Crabbe and Goyle were easy to bend to his will, accepting his demand to meet with them at the end of the week without complaint, so long as they got to eat their full double dinner that they usually had on weekends. Unfortunately, Draco did not feel comfortable in trusting any of the others in Slytherin at this time. There simply were too many variables where their loyalties lay, far more complicated than those of the Death Eater parents or Blaise, who had enough discretion to be trustworthy.

It would be interesting to pull off keeping this hidden from not only the Headmaster, but Harry as well. Sometimes the Ravenclaw was too perceptive for his own good, but Draco was only partially prepared for his defense if the other boy was to find out his plan and question him regarding his attempt to form more warlocks.

Although, Draco doubted that Harry could be too upset, as why else would he have offered to teach the other Death Eaters the powers of the Void. But of course, at the same time, Draco knew that his father had all but manipulated Harry into teaching him and the others in exchange for assistance for his connections regarding the artifacts that the boy needed for whatever plans the demon wanted. Draco still wished he knew what hose plans entailed however.


	20. C19: Important Questions

**Many thanks to the people who review properly, with constructive data as opposed to swearing and general hate-spewing that serves nothing to anyone, aside from giving another review to a story they apparently** **dislike...** **but still end up making it look better by leaving their destructive comments... because sense this makes? Anyway, thanks! ~F**

 **Chapter Nineteen**

 **Important Questions**

Lucius angrily crumpled the latest of a series of letters from the Ministry, once again denying his access to explore the Department of Mysteries, or even request a report of what was currently within the achieves of the lowest levels of the Ministry. It seemed that nothing short of a fully fledged infiltration or attack would be able to so much as confirm the existence of the Grimoire.

Harry may not be pleased with this required course of action, but it was possible if they pulled it off correctly, that they could pin the action on hidden and unknown members of the Dark Lord's forces, aside from their own people who were well protected behind the money that flowed from their families to the Ministry, or another unknown faction altogether.

Quickly, Lucius' quill flew across a fresh piece of parchment to his son at Hogwarts, the only safe method of getting information to Potter, under the nose of Dumbledore. Meanwhile, until they received the green light to make their move, he would continue to push and prepare those of the former Death Eaters turned warlocks for their glorious rise to power.

Unfortunately, that progress had been slow since they lost the immediately tutelage from Potter, and had to use what wisdom Lucius could glean from the tomes and scrolls that the boy had left behind. Still, growth had been made by them as a whole, but only Lucius had managed the next stage of demonic summoning, bringing forth the blue gaseous creature called a Voidwalker.

At the same time, he had also decided to focus himself toward the degrading powers of the Void, using the dark shadow magic to weaken and waste away his opponents before they could harm him, or at this point before they could bypass the stoic blue barrier that Grak'dok now represented for Lucius.

As the unofficial leader of the warlocks that remained outside Hogwarts, Lucius took it upon himself to push the team as hard as possible every time that they gathered, sometimes going so far as to hunt with nothing but their warlock abilities and demons out in the wilds surrounding his manor. Narcissa might be growing suspicious regarding the many outings and somewhat out of character behavior, but thankfully the women of the Black family knew how to hold their peace when it came to the business of the Lords of their households.

Regardless, there were limits to even what the Black household was willing to tolerate, and Lucius could easily figure that Narcissa was reaching her breaking point, and would have to be informed about something to satisfy her curiosity at some point soon.

Casually, in the privacy of his office, Lucius summoned his imp, Tarrin, to his side. The small creature appeared in a burst of green fel fire, cackling madly at the prospect of mayhem and destruction, only to quite when he recognized that they were in the enclosed area of Lucius' office, and therefore highly unlikely to make use of his favorite tool, fire…

"Tarrin," Lucius started coolly, "I have some questions for you regarding the glorious Burning Legion…"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want…" the demonic creature said, shrugging casually. The imp had let the name slip once or twice before, and Lucius was greatly concerned with what he was hearing regarding this faction of demons.

"I know that we are assisting Potter with gathering his artifacts for the Legion, but what is the end purpose of this goal is supposed to me? What does the boy stand to gain?" Lucius asked pointedly, watching the little creature as he squirmed under the question.

"Well, I don't know a human named Harry, so I couldn't tell you what his interests are regarding the will of the Legion, nor the end goals of its leaders, but the purpose is to proceed across the cosmos, finding the sources of great magic and take them for ourselves, burning the works of the Titans as we go, in the name of our great leader Sargeras," Tarrin replied, bouncing from flaming foot to foot as he visibly itched for something to actually do.

"And what happens to the worlds that have these magic sources that the Legion wants, and what are the works of these titans?" Lucius asked, his suspicion growing dangerously.

"As the worlds themselves are the works of the Titans, they are destroyed," the Imp said, smiling toothily, even as Lucius grimaced.

"And the likelihood that the warlocks on some such world know this beforehand?" he asked.

"High, as that is always the purpose of the Legion, although at times the warlocks are moved to a new world afterward as either a reward or to continue the process if they prove loyal and useful enough. But warlocks of any stature are well aware that the Legion is going out to destroy the universe." The imp replied honestly.

Lucius felt himself grow cold. There were several options of what was going on, and each was less appealing than the last. The most benign reasoning was that Potter was unaware of what the Legion truly wanted, and was focused solely on whatever his own goal was that he hadn't asked the same questions that Lucius had. But somehow Lucius highly doubted that that was even close to the case.

More likely, in his mind, Potter knew exactly what the price for his desire would be, and just didn't care about the earth to think twice before sacrificing it. Acquiring these items seemed to be the requirements to rip a portal open enough to allow the leaders of the Burning Legion to set foot onto their world, and once that occurred there was no stopping them from annihilating their world completely.

"So, then, if the total destruction of my world is all that I have to look forward to, why am I assisting Potter acquire the tools with to achieve that goal of devastating my planet?" he asked the imp before him, wondering what Potter wanted so badly that he would kill millions for it.

"Well, I wouldn't know the exactly what the current bargain is with the warlocks here, but it has to be something, as the entire Legion has their eye on this world, aside from those concerned with the grand prize that is consuming the leaders of the Legion." The creature replied.

Curious as to what would be more important to the Legion than their current world of choice; Lucius took the bait, "What world is so important that the Legion cannot turn their attention from it?"

"Azeroth," Tarrin said, almost wistfully, "it's every demons dream to set foot on that magically charged world, which has the greatest font of power that has been ever found in the cosmos. It's also somewhat of a sore spot as the Legion has been defeated there more than once, so we have an invested interest in taking that world."

Lucius wondered for a long moment, "The boy who trains us, you know who I'm talking about, where has he been for so long?"

Unfortunately, the imp had no information whatsoever regarding Potter directly. But still, Lucius was starting to form some pretty detailed ideas as to what was going on behind the scenes of the boy's actions, and if he knew any of the other major players of either the Death Eaters or Dumbledore's group, they'd be working on their own solutions, but significantly lacking on one major thing: the knowledge of the Legion.

Without that key thing, Lucius would bet anything that his hypothesis would be by far the closest to the truth regarding Potter and his motivations. Well, let the fools think what they would, Lucius would prepare. If he was serious about annihilating their world, then the Malfoys would confront him regarding it, and proceed as needed. Potter wasn't unstoppable yet, and if Lucius was right, then he wouldn't need to be stopped.

"A world ripe in magic, with fonts of power that draw even the attention of the Lords of the Legion…" he said as he dismissed Tarrin with a wave of his hand. Lucius knew that Potter would strive to return to where he felt he belonged, especially after what he had mentioned regarding Dumbledore's effective abduction of him when he first reappeared in Godric's Hollow, but he was sure that they all had been interested in exactly where the boy had come from.

"Azeroth…" he murmured again, pouring himself some firewhiskey and swirling it to allow the flavor to temper somewhat in open air. It wasn't proper for a Pureblood Lord to become intoxicated. But a stiff drink was needed to contemplate these things. If it was that Potter wanted to return to this Azeroth, burning his home world in the process to accomplish it, then there must have been something worth quite a deal there for the taking.

Lucius would play along for now, keeping this information to himself, but he and Potter were going to have another little chat soon, and he expected the boy to become very honest very quickly. Powerful warlock or not, there wasn't any secret that one could keep from a Malfoy for long. It was this trait alone that had keep their family afloat during the madness of the First War between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, and Lucius had only grown more cunning as time went on. He was going to enjoy putting Potter in his place, while still maintaining his loyalty to the boy's plans in the process. He was not going to be some slave again, but a partner, fully in the know and operating the process. Never again would he allow his family to be afraid for their lives because of the will of another, man or demon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan felt extremely accomplished that his plan had automatically set itself into motion. Granted, he still had extreme annoyances in the form of Gilderoy Lockhart, and less so with Colin Creevey. As they were in different houses, the first year had little opportunity to actually see or track the warlock down, but as Nobu'tan knew that the boy fell into the qualifications that he had given to Granger for her new caste of mages, he was always at least kind to the boy in response.

Lockhart on the other hand, was avoided at all costs, purely to spare the young warlock his sanity, but otherwise things were almost normal, like being back in Dalaran for a time. Magical education continued, but Nobu'tan was finally able to grasp much more as his need for the translation charm had finally run its course, and he was fluently speaking the language of English at last.

In fact, the only thing out of the ordinary that occurred was late into the second week, as Nobu'tan was returning to Ravenclaw Tower at the end of the day; he heard something through the very walls of the castle. " _Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…_ "

Despite having lived with powerful and sometimes uncontrollable creatures, the sheer eeriness of the voice caused Nobu'tan to jump in surprise. The magic of the castle however was undisturbed, so he was completely blind as to being able to pinpoint the location that the voice had come from, and after a few moments of fruitless searching, he gave it up and returned to the eagle knocker, answering another ridicules riddle to gain entrance to the common room.

However all thoughts of sleep had left him, as the voice had reminded him of important things that were not best left unattended. Or at least best addressed within his own mind for when they did happen. Nobu'tan knew that demons held no loyalty to their warlocks, or mortals in general, and while Lucius, Yaxley and the other, more intelligent Death Eaters had immediately agreed to his plots and schemes, draw in by the power that they stood to gain, now that they had it they were bound to question why they ought to continue serving him in gathering that artifacts for the Legion.

Knowing the imps that they had brought into this world, like all of their kind, Nobu'tan could bet gold that the Legion had been mention at least once, and if any of them had so much as asked, the imps would do nothing to shroud the destructive nature of the demon lords, and that might be problematic if the older men decided that they loved their world more than the promises of power and riches that Nobu'tan could give them in Azeroth.

He would have to create a most convincing argument for why their world could be tossed aside for something much better. Worst of all, if it was Lucius himself that discovered this fact, Nobu'tan would probably be pushed into revealing everything regarding himself and how he came to return to their world, including the Stormreavers and their leader, his master Gul'dan.

How the man would react to learning that Nobu'tan was the apprentice of a nonhuman creature hell-bent on the destruction of his race upon another world, Nobu'tan did not know, but the manipulative man was well skilled and able to even work through the meager web of lies that currently held Dumbledore at bay. Granted the man had the key currently, knowledge of the demonic arts, which took the majority of Nobu'tan's secrets from him.

Still, perhaps power and wealth were all that mattered to the Malfoy patriarch, and protection for his family. He could show them his memories of the beauty of Azeroth, from lush and evergreen Quel'Thalas, to the grandeur of Dalaran, and the many places that he himself had seen and experienced, and convince the man that it was a safer and more profitable option for him and his family than earth.

So it would be, and if the man refused, then Nobu'tan was prepared to defend himself with all the magic he possessed. Lucius Malfoy was vastly unaware of the Arcane magic that Nobu'tan possessed, and that combined with his more advanced Fel magic would be more than able to overcome the man and his wizardry.

That settled, Nobu'tan was able to turn his attention to the month ahead. October would be interesting, given that it was highly likely that not only would Draco and the Slytherins make their move to start creating more warlocks, to match Granger and her mages, but Dumbledore and Snape would be forced to take action against not one, but possibly two groups of different magic users springing up in their midst.

Either they would take Nobu'tan himself aside and question him yet again, or more likely they would go straight to Granger, and Draco if they find out about the warlocks, although Nobu'tan doubted that the Slytherins would be as obvious about it as Granger was going to be. The worst that could happen was Dumbledore finally learning about the magic of the Arcane, but even then all it would do divert more attention away from Nobu'tan, as the Arcane magic in and of itself was relatively harmless, no more than powerful charms and a few hexes when compared to Wizardry.

But if the administration discovered the warlocks, then there may be a problem. Nobu'tan would have to make sure he got into contact with Draco after he began his group, and notified them that, while he did not care what they chose to do with his power, that they had better make sure that they were not caught, or even suspected, of using dark magic in the school, as it would mean drastic consequences.

It would be terrible if they were found out before locating even one of the artifacts that would unleash the Legion. Hopefully when the next update from Lucius came, he would be able to speak with Draco in private regarding the new group he was heading, and give them express instructions and some added guidance. Leadership was not the easiest of things, Nobu'tan had learned. Perhaps this was why Gul'dan preferred to control things from the shadows, rather than be at the head of anything aside from the Shadow Council. It felt gratifying to be following in his master's footsteps even though they had been separated for over a year.

Momentarily, as he drifted off in his bed minutes later, Nobu'tan wondered where his surrogate father was, and what chaos he was wreaking on the Azerothian humans at that moment. Perhaps he had won already, and ruled over an orc run world, preparing for many portals to be created to spread the Horde to even more locations across the stars. It was a beautiful dream, after all.

He couldn't be sure what had been the cause of his reflections that night, but the vision that he was granted in his sleep was something both refreshing and horrifying. He could see his mentor, alive and well, as the powerful orc delved into a risen cave network out in the great sea. Nobu'tan briefly recognized the place as the legendary Tomb of Sargeras, and was saddened that his mentor had ventured on without him into the fabled place.

Granted, from what scraps of the warlock's monologue that he could hear, it seemed that Gul'dan had come to the Tomb precisely to use the power of the Dark Titan to find and bring Nobu'tan back to Azeroth himself. The point was driven further when he even killed one of the few warlocks that had joined him in the task of exploring the Tomb's depths.

But all fondness was dashed when the last image of the vision appeared, a terrible creature from the depths of the dark tomb, a guardian of sorts, clad in powerful Fel magic that Nobu'tan wasn't sure if even if mentor would overcome alone.

He awoke with a start, with sweat pouring off his skin and chilled to the bone. Had that been a vision of what was to come? Or something that was already happening, and nothing he could do to stop? He hoped for the former. Curling in upon himself, he sat in the darkness and waited for dawn to come, as he had no more desire for sleep and the possible return of the tormenting vision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was ever on edge throughout the end of September and beginning of October. While nothing out of the ordinary had, as of yet, occurred, he could still feel some sort of undercurrent of tension forming between the students.

His and Severus' attempts to get closer to Miss Granger were so far yielding little, as the girl was always so very busy, and calling her directly to his office would be far too obvious to anyone as to what they were up to, but at the same time, Albus was considering throwing caution to the wind and calling upon her for answers. She had thus far cultivated a rather large number of friends and study companions, from all houses but Slytherin, and they kept occasionally disappearing in small groups for a time, only to reappear at meals or at the end of weekends looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.

According to Severus' information, it had to mean that the girl was indeed going about teaching even more students how to wield the arcane magic that she herself had been taught by Harry. The only thing that Albus found disturbing by this was that Harry himself was not involved. Indeed the boy was staying rather aloof of all his friends from the previous year, aside from occasional chats with Draco Malfoy before and after the classes that Ravenclaw and Slytherin shared, but otherwise the boy was mostly keeping to himself.

If Albus knew anything about plots and how they were formed, then this was a terribly bad sign if ever there was one. For Harry to be separating himself from people he was friendly with, there had to be some sort of distraction brewing so that the boy could have time undetected, but for what purpose, and how could Albus avoid the trap?

It seemed that the boy was quite effectively backing Albus into a corner of predictable action, giving the Headmaster no choice but to take the bait and go after Miss Granger directly, which was obviously the one thing that he shouldn't do. But the likelihood of the boy playing a far more dangerous gambit with this was high, and while Albus hated playing mind games with a twelve year old, the fact was that he was currently out of options.

So, he send a message to Miss Granger one weekend in the second week of October, requesting her presence in his office, and giving her the required password for the secret entrance to his staircase, and waiting for what would undoubtedly be a difficult evening.

Once the appointed time came, Albus was already second guessing himself. What if Harry was already making some kind of move while Albus was here following a dead end lead? But that of course was absurd, he had thought ahead and had Severus patrolling outside the Ravenclaw Tower entrance for just this purpose. Although there was the boy's cloak to factor in, rendering Severus' presence outside the dormitory irrelevant, and still give Harry amply time to act freely toward whatever end he would.

It was so very disturbing, to be working so hard against someone who ought to have been his ally, like a second Voldemort already, but Albus was _not_ going to make that comparison, not between Harry and Tom.

The sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his wavering thoughts. "Enter," he called, and the bushy brown hair of Miss Granger appeared, the girl taking an obvious interest in everything in Albus' office as she walked toward the desk.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I presume you found my office without trouble then," Albus started politely, "Lemon Drop?" he offered, gesturing at the tin set out on his desk.

"Oh, yes please," the girl said, brightening at the muggle sweet, and taking one for herself. That alone made Albus smile, it was so rare for anyone visiting his office for any reason to accept one, and they were quite interesting to the taste, despite being muggle in origin.

"I trust that you may have some inclination as to why I have called you to my office so unexpectedly," Albus continued, growing slightly more serious, but making sure that his eyes remained grandfatherly soft and calm. That way, while the girl flinched at the abruptness of his words, she didn't shy away out of reflex or fear, but grudgingly accepted that he was clearly more aware of what went on in his school than she thought.

"Well, possibly, if it's what I think it may be…" she said, shifting her Lemon Drop from one side of her mouth to the other after speaking.

"I suppose that is a fair answer," Albus accepted, "and I shall clarify therefore. I am concerned by the actions of Mr. Potter, in teaching you some rare and, quite potentially dangerous magic, and that you are in turn spreading it to other students, supposedly without my knowledge of course."

Miss Granger seemed to have expected this, but her eyes still widened slightly at the clear and direct mention of her fledgling group. "How so, Professor?" she asked diplomatically, almost innocently.

"Well, for starters, I was still in the middle of discussions with Mr. Potter regarding this arcane magic when he decided upon himself to teach it to you, and I'm afraid all the ramifications regarding one who practices the Arcane and wizards magic haven't yet been thoroughly explored. For your safety, and the safety of those you are currently teaching, I need you all to either stop using the Arcane completely…"

Albus paused at the noticeable gasp that the girl gave, "or…" he added, "I need to have full and complete instructions of everything you have accomplished thus far, to test them for any potential side effects. You must also promise that, if I do find anything that may be dangerous regarding a particular ability or spell, that it be stopped immediately and forbidden for the safety of all involved."

"So, I presume that you and Harry disagree whether there is any danger or not?" Miss Granger said astutely.

"That's the by and large of it," Albus replied, nodding, "I'd rather be safe than tragically sorry, while he is convinced that nothing could possibly go wrong, citing himself as the example, but just one instance is not good enough, and while I am sure that that is part of why he trained you without my knowledge, to prove his point, but I'd still like to run some tests before I give this full clearance to proceed."

"I… understand…" Miss Granger said after a short pause, "I'll start copying down all the abilities that the mages have amassed thus far for you to go over, but in the meantime we shall continue to practice and grow stronger, as not only I, but all of the mages I've started teaching are in agreement that we need to take advantage of every skill we can get while here in Hogwarts, especially if there are forces out in the world that would persecute us just for petty differences."

' _Ah_ ,' Albus thought triumphantly, ' _So that is how Harry managed to convince her to go through with this_." It would be the retaliation to the pureblood bigotry that would motivate any Muggleborn witch or wizard to striving to be the best they could, especially if added to the temptation of unique magic known to only a few.

"Alright then, Miss Granger, I'll be expecting those notes within the month, but for now you may go." Albus said, allowing the girl to depart his office. There wasn't much more he could get from her until he reviewed those abilities and spells they had come up with, and learned them for himself. Only then would he be absolutely sure that this arcane magic was not dark in nature.

Even if it turned out to be the case, then there was still the question of why Harry's magic was tainted when he channeled these types of power, or if... Albus paused, considering the option that Harry had simply lied to Albus, and the Arcane was not the other obscure magical art that he knew.

Only time would tell if that was the case however, even if Albus didn't fell that he had time to devote to this sort of massive investigation of one of his own students, but it was specifically that it was Harry that such a necessity. It didn't sit right with Albus, but for the sake of their world, he needed to understand what Harry was capable of, because like it or not, Voldemort would eventually return. Of that Albus was certain, and when it did happen, Harry would be needed more than anyone else, all because of the prophecy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had never realized how truly difficult it was to teach others magical arts. "No, no, no! You do not understand what I mean…" he said exasperatedly to the group of three Slytherin second year boys that he intended to start his collection of warlocks with.

He had already guessed that teaching Crabbe and Goyle would be difficult, but he hadn't expected that even Blaise would have difficulty comprehending even the very first step of touching the Fel magic of the Void.

"You're not explaining it very well, then…" Blaise retorted, growing frustrated. Draco couldn't completely blame him either. The topic was rather abstract to most wizards of their world, reaching for something that couldn't be seen, when usually their magic was just taken for granted as there and just a few words and a wand movement away. Perhaps that was why so many who never got around to learning the more difficult magic, like the mind arts or wandless magic.

Straining his mind, Draco tried to think of a way that he could transmit the idea of what Blaise and the others ought to do to make the connection with the Void and its unlimited supply of magic. "Perhaps if you gave us a demonstration first, we'd have an idea of what you mean."

Eyes flashing with the realization of how obvious it was, Draco darted forward, grabbing the Italian boy's arm, "You're exactly right, but just watching won't be enough, here," and ignoring Blaise's rather indignant squeak of protest, Draco forced the boy's hands over his own, making sure that the boy did not let go in revulsion. This was not the time for being overly concerned with what was proper.

Moving his arms in the opening motions of demonic calling, Draco allowed the Void's energy to reach out and connect with him, pressing some of it through the physical contact so that Blaise sensed it as well. As soon as that happened, all resistance disappeared from the other boy, and within moments he was grasping both of Draco's hands hard enough to squeeze the bones together.

It was true then, Draco mused. Blaise really was bored with how the world worked, and this evidence of something new and exciting was enough to peak his interest well beyond anything in the last several years.

"Reach out and grasp that calling of the great beyond," Draco instructed, feeling the other boy attempting with his might to reach his magic through and touch the Nether, desperate for the connection. Draco did not fight the boy's attempts to leech off his own connection to make the final push, and felt with a jolt as the boy triumphantly brushed the demonic magic of the Void.

"It's… fantastic!" he said, no doubt feeling the charge of power in himself even as Draco ended his spell and separated their intertwined magical ties.

"You've merely taken the first step." Draco said quietly, "there is so much more that you do not understand to come."

Glancing over at where Theodore was still striving to get the pair of thickheaded members of their dorm to understand, Draco sighed, "Continue working on strengthen your connection by relaxing and retouching the Void until it becomes as easy as breathing. Only then can the real work begin."

Blaise nodded, finally comprehending the importance of this step, and Draco was able to, slowly, explain everything that had happened to Theo about what had worked for Blaise. Almost recreating the same situation, Draco had both Crabbe and Goyle place hands on his shoulders, as he reached out to the Twisted Nether and began channeling the energy to bring forth a Voidwalker, which both he and Theodore had mastered some time previously.

It seemed to be the deciding factor, that one needed to be shown the way first, then left to their own devices on how to make the connection themselves, as both large and muscle brained boys were able to make their own link with the Fel powers within the remaining hour and a half that they had to go about training unobserved. Charging all three of them to practice making and breaking the connection throughout the week, Draco promised that they would test the strength and reflex the following session that they met, and hopefully begin with the most basic of warlock incantations and spell.

He could easily envision Blaise joining their cadre of demon summoners in short order, while both Crabbe and Goyle may take longer, but Draco hoped he may be surprised with the two larger boys. And once these three were well on their way, they could slowly start incorporating others from Slytherin House into their ranks. From his last check Granger had a slight advantage on then in numbers, but also had Professor Dumbledore breathing down her neck, so if they played their cards right and worked from the shadows, as they already ought to be as Slytherins, they could enjoy some anonymity for quite a while yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione wasn't terribly pleased with being so singled out by the Headmaster, as she knew without a doubt, much as Harry had, that the arcane magic was only as harmful as the wielder. But the kindly old man had a point that he had every right to at least be made aware of what occurred within his own school, and therefore she obediently copied everything that they had studied and researched up to the middle of October and mailed it to Professor Dumbledore without complaint.

Not that that stopped her from continuing the makeshift classes that she held on a weekly basis, currently only open to certain first and second years from three of the four houses. As Harry had advised, she had selected candidates that met the parameters of strong wills, but curious minds, and good senses of loyalty to a cause.

To that end, her group only consisted of herself, first year Colin Creevey, who had been personally recommended by Harry, as well as second year Gryffindor Fey Dunbar, Hufflepuffs Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, and Ravenclaw Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein.

Most of her new mages were only just past the initial connection to the magic of the ley lines under Hogwarts, but the two Ravenclaws, and surprisingly Colin were already surging ahead in their self studies by leaps and bounds, while the others were still trying to master their first spells. It was rather impressive to see that everyone she had selected had their own personal reasons for wanting nothing more than to be as proficient as possible with the new magic of the Magi.

Granted, only herself and Colin were Muggleborn, and therefore directly in the line of fire of the dark wizards wanted to rise in power again, but the rest were all members of families that had staunchly opposed the rise of Voldemort, and most of the same had lost relatives to the man and his Death Eaters. Even the thought that he might return, or some other would take his place was motivation enough to make sure that they had means to protect their futures and the freedoms that their relatives had given their lives for.

Their group was divided into two sections, those working to learn the first ability, a bolt of Frostfire, and those three more advanced students that were working to produce a nova of frost that would ensnare attackers.

Hermione had already master both of these, and far more abilities, but she was more than willing to take the time to coach the others through connecting to the primal energies of magic and warping it to their needs in cases of emergencies.

"Alright, this is going to be somewhat short of a session, as I'm sure that most of you want to be early for the Halloween feast," Hermione prefaced, smiling as most of the others nodded in agreement. "So let's throw as much effort as we can into working right now and then relax with all the excellent food that we'll be eating tonight!"

The others cheered lightly, before immediately getting to work. Hermione slowly walked back and forth between the two groups, offering advice gently to each person who seemed to be struggling. Colin's biggest struggle, for example, was that he tended to overcharge his spells, pumping far more magic than was needed into them, with dramatic consequences.

On the other hand, some of the other girls, like Hannah and Susan, were still somewhat afraid of how devastatingly powerful the first spell was. It took combining the powers of fire and frost into one brutal attack to usually launch any mage into the arcane arts, but some, especially those who were afraid of the impact that the blast was capable of, had problems merging the two elements together.

Logically, Hermione would have started with one element or the other for simplicities sake, but Harry had explained to her that it was part of determining what element the individual preferred over the other early on, or in the case of those who were more effective with pure magic, neither. That was judged by the strength of each half of the spell, or as a whole.

Getting them to accept that spells had consequences was the first step in overcoming this issue, and thankfully, by the end of their short session, the others had more or less come to terms with the amount of strength that they could expect from the magi's abilities.

"Well done everyone, really good job!" Hermione said as she called for a halt to their practice and dismissed them all for the feast that would be starting below in under an hour. They all, herself include, wanted to wash up and change into fresh robes for that, as to not betray what they had been up to. Professor Dumbledore, and most likely the others head's of house were aware of them, but it ought not to further than that, for everyone's safety.

Quickly returning to Gryffindor Tower, with Colin and Fay in tow, Hermione happily changed into fresh robes and went swiftly down to the feast, which was already starting by the time she arrived.

Harry, as well as Draco and his Slytherin friends were already down there, enjoying themselves with the large selection of food and treats, mercifully without the interruption last year had presented with the troll. Hermione sent subtle nods at the pair of them, pretty sure that both groups were aware of what she was up to, Harry naturally as the original idea generator of the concept, and Draco through the Slytherin boy's keen observance of the ebb and flow of the school.

Over the rest of the feast, Hermione noticed the others she had been teaching trickle in and out with their friends, acting perfectly normal, which was excellent. It was imperative that no one know exactly how many or who was part of their faction, aside from Harry, as it gave them a small advantage if someone was to try and shut them down by force.

Hermione wasn't thinking of parents or the Professors in this vein however, even Professor Dumbledore she couldn't see trying to stop them, especially after he himself tested out some of their abilities and realized how straight forward and clean the magic was. No, Hermione was primarily wary of the school Governors, lead by none other than Lucius Malfoy.

Cordial thought the man had been when they met in Diagon, Hermione was under no false pretenses as to who the man was or what he represented, and she wasn't able to accurately trust what he would react to if he found out that a splinter group of magic users was forming under a Muggleborn's hand in the school. While she definitely did not agree with the man's potential logic with opposing such an organization, it was the way this world worked, and if she hoped to alter it, she had to work from the shadows for the time being.

But, now was not the time to overly worry about discovery, when the feast was coming to a close. With a din of scraping and shuffling the many students rose and started filing out of the hall to proceed to their dormitories for extra study and sleep. Due to the odd configuration of this portion of the castle, while there were two different ways from the Great Hall, there was still only one route to the grand staircase, meaning that the corridor that went past the second floor landing and Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was quickly arrived at by students from either end of the corridor.

But, something was wrong when they arrived at the area just outside of the landing. Hermione only noticed because she had glanced over at Harry, who was several people over and ahead of her, surrounded by his housemates. The boy had paused momentarily, a frown crossing his face, like he had heard something extremely unpleasant, and he looked toward the wall near the bathroom.

Hermione followed his eyes, and quickly found something shining on the wall ahead. Someone far ahead cried out at the same time as a small splash was heard, there must have been water on the floor there. But most everyone else was transfixed by the same thing Hermione had seen.

Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches, and reading: ' _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware_.'

The chatter and bustle around them died away as more and more read the message, and soon, Hermione noticed the other thing on the wall that had spooked everyone looking at the message. Underneath the message, hanging by its tailed from the torch braket like a sick trophy, was Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.

"What's going on here? Whats going on?" shouted the cantankerous caretaker's voice as he shoved his way through the stunned crowd. Then he spotted his cat, and fell back with a cry, clutching at his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris!" he shrieked at no one in particular. Whirling on the crowd of assembled students, eyes popping, he started screeching at them all. "Who did it? Who murdered my cat?!"


	21. C20: A Reflection of the Past

**Thanks for the constructive reviews, always appreciated! Check out Aileen O'Heidin and the Sword of Godric Gryffindor (and its sequel) written by** **XxNightAngelusxX. It's one of the best Next Gen Harry Potter fics I've ever read, and sorely underappreciated for the quality of writing that it is. the attention at least would be most appreciated. Thanks again. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty**

 **A Reflection of the Past**

Khadgar looked out forlornly upon the wide wastelands of Deadwind Pass. It had been nearly a year since the fall of the Horde at the Dark Portal, but the Archmage still felt very uneasy regarding some of the loose ends. Not only were there several vital clans completely unaccounted for, namely the Bleeding Hollow and Black Tooth Grin, but the leaders of the Alliance of Lordaeron still had very little understanding of what had shattered the Horde's conquest in the first place.

Khadgar himself had questioned many of the green creatures, desperately trying to understand, but only those who had been direct members of the Blackrock clan had had any information to give. Apparently two of their more numerous clans, the Stormreavers and Twilight Hammer clans, both under direct or indirect influence of the Warlock Gul'dan, had abandoned their posts near Quel'Thalas upon the eve of the fateful battle outside Lordaeron's Capital city, retracing their steps back to Hillsbrad and setting sail for the far western sea. Whatever they had unearthed from the raging water had been enough for Ogrim Doomhammer, the Warchief of the rampaging orcs, to peruse the renegade clans at the cost of their victory, and butchered both clans.

However, regardless of how he phrased the question, Khadgar could get nothing definitive regarding neither leader of the Stormreavers fate, the warlock Gul'dan, nor the existence of a human boy with the Stormreavers at the time of their demise. Sure, plenty of the orcs willing offered that there was a human in the Horde, but as to where he went or what he was doing; it was as though the boy had just vanished after they appeared in the northern part of the continent.

Khadgar paused mid thought, even as he watched the shade of the old keeper of the tower, Morose; amble past him with the old man's customary blinders in place. The tower of Karazhan was still in flux from the massive power backlash when Medivh was killed so long ago, and the spirits and phantoms had grown in magnitude to encompass even those of that time, like poor Morose. Khadgar could even talk with the old man every once in a while, but not generally for long and only occasionally did the keeper of the tower have any recollection of things in a semblance of order.

Returning to the thought at hand, Khadgar tried his hardest to remember that day, when the Horde had arrived on Lordaeron's shores for the first time. There had been a massive battle, yes, and they had pushed the Horde off to the east, toward the Arathi Highlands, but when he had stopped to regroup with the other Alliance leaders… he…had…

And Khadgar remembered the black haired youth that had the most powerful spark of magic he had ever felt before, and foolishly, not thinking in the moment he had directed the boy to Dalaran with his personal recommendation, to learn the magic of the Kirin Tor.

He had been such a fool as to forget what he had seen. Without even a pause in though, Khadgar swung the greatstaff of Medivh, Atiesh, in a semicircle in front of him, tearing open a rift in space to allow him to warp directly to the Violet Citadel. Naturally the governing body of the mages were not all present at the time, many personally taking leave to study the rift that had remained after Khadgar himself had obliterated the Dark Portal with raw magic, while others assisted in the creation of the Alliance watch post of Nethergarde.

He would be lucky to find just one of the other Archmagi to speak with regarding the boy, whose name Khadgar himself had never known. His appearance had still managed to create quite a stir among those of the lower ranks of wizards, and as he went from corridor to corridor, the apprentices in the Citadel parted to make way for him. Spotting a more senior wizard among the throngs of young men and women, Khadgar grabbed the older student by the arm, "Where are any of the Archmagi, I need to speak with one urgently."

"Only Archmage Kel'Thuzad is left with us right now," the young man said, his knees growing weak with how suddenly the master of Karazhan was close to him.

"Take me to him, immediately," Khadgar demanded, sprinting after the young man as he led the way up to the chambers of the Archmagi, and then across the floor to the great library of Dalaran. It was there that the man was found, in the restricted section of the library, pouring over a literal pile of dark tomes, and seeming oblivious to the world around him.

"Lord Kel'Thuzad…" the young wizard said, reaching a hand to attract the Archmage's attention. It was violently batted away as Kel'Thuzad glared over at them both.

"What part of I do not wish to be disturbed does no one in this Citadel understand!" he half roared at the young wizard, who flinched back in fright. "M…my Lord, Archmage Khadgar is here and wished to speak with you…"

Kel'Thuzad looked as though he was about to shout again, but paused, registering the words the young man had said, before composing himself and sitting up straighter, "Of course, my apologies, I should have realized that you would only disturb me under the most important of matters, you may go, and send him in."

"I am already here, Archmage," Khadgar said, stepping into the torchlight from the doorway to the forbidden part of the library. Khadgar could already feel the dark aura of the books that the other Archmage was so desperately researching.

"What can I do for you, o great master of Karazhan?" Kel'Thuzad said; only allow a small amount of venom to pour out at the title.

"I need to know what happened a year ago to the boy I sent here for training under the Mages of Dalaran. It would have been just after…" Khadgar started, but Kel'Thuzad interrupted him.

"Tobias Banu, I know… I was the one to train him you know… before…" the wizard trailed off, almost turning back to the books piled in front of him.

"What happened, I need to know…" Khadgar said urgently, stepping closer. He caught a few words of the book as he did so, and was revolted by the descriptions. They were tomes of Necromancy, an art all but forbidden by the Kirin Tor.

Kel'Thuzad sighed, long and painfully, "I gave that boy every opportunity possible. You were right; by the way, he was the most potentially powerful magic user to set foot in theses walls in a thousand lifetimes. But he… he threw it all away, and stole from the great library before running back to that devious orc spell caster…"

"Gul'dan…" Khadgar supplied, and Kel'Thuzad nodded.

"I followed him, all the way to the edge of Quel'Thalas, and fought with the warlock, trying to save Tobias, and bring him back here to Dalaran. But even as I threw my hearthstone at the boy to remove him from the conflict, that monster did something that overcharged the stone, and when it struck Tobias, he disappeared. Banished into the void or dead, I do not know. Such a loss of potential…"

Khadgar put a comforting hand on the Archmage's shoulder, "Indeed, but I fear that potential was already turned from us before we ever met the boy. It is clear from your story that he was in league with Gul'dan, but the question is for what end?"

"Well, we can't find out now, can we?" the Archmage said irritably, throwing off Khadgar's arm, "Tobias is dead and Gul'dan is who knows where. We can only wait and wonder…"

The Master of Karazhan paused for a moment at the other wizard's words, even as the man groped for the book he had been reading and returned to its pages. "If you have no further questions, please leave me to my grief and my studies. There is much yet to be done."

Raising an eye to what he was seeing before him, Khadgar stepped away, almost immediately being ignored by Kel'Thuzad. It was as though the man was possessed with finding some lost, and incredibly dark, technique to return the dead to life. Surely the man wasn't thinking there was a way to bring his old apprentice back to Azeroth?

Khadgar left, knowing from his studies of the remnants of Medivh's library that the darkness held no true powers to return loved ones to the mortal realm. Necromantic arts as well as the powers of the demons that granted it could only destroy and bring ruin. Kel'Thuzad was wise enough to learn that for himself in time, and then Khadgar was confident that the man would give up his foolish quest and return to his own life, in assisting the running of the Council of Six for the benefit of all Dalaran.

But it still left him personally with many questions. Khadgar had not said anything to Kel'Thuzad, but the fact that a hearthstone was instrumental in supposedly killing the boy apprentice of Gul'dan, Khadgar was rather suspicious that the boy was indeed dead.

True he had been nowhere to find, and he was sure that Kel'Thuzad's first course of action had been to try and scry out his wayward apprentice's location with magic, clearly to no avail. But the fact remained that it was highly unlikely that the boy had been killed in that, as a hearthstone only served to return the user to the place they called home. Could it be that the boy had not completely been what he had claimed?

At first, Khadgar entertained the idea that the boy had been a powerful demon in disguise, but that was impossible. Even while distracted Khadgar would have sensed something absolutely wrong if the boy had been a demon under an illusion, walking the streets of Southshore. Barring that, Dalaran had wards to protect themselves from demons, meaning that if he had been one, the boy wouldn't have been able to so much as enter the city.

No, there was some other explanation to this matter. Khadgar mused as he teleported back to Karazhan. It may be possible, incredibly slim for sure, but after all the Orcs had come from another world via a massive tear in the fabric of space and time. What if either the boy had been on their red world with them before being carried to Azeroth, or even perhaps he had come from another world altogether, one as of yet unknown to the denizens of Azeroth, wheeling out in the cosmos of the Nether…

There were so many questions, and it seemed answers were not going to be forthcoming ever. And unfortunately, as he set foot upon the causeway leading toward the Guardian's old habitation, Khadgar spotted an Alliance delegation awaiting him. More meetings between the various human nations and their petty squabbling for power over the ruined Nation of Alterac or the like, perhaps, unless it was their seeking the knowledge of the master of Karazhan to tell them what they must do to rid themselves of the orcs infesting Khaz Modan.

The largest section of orcs still in power in Azeroth were led by the Dragonmaw clan, situated around the dwarven kingdom of Grim Batol, and the main issue with removing them had been the red dragons that they had captive there. None in the Alliance were certain why the winged creatures sided with the green skinned outsiders, nevertheless they were the Horde remnant's most powerful ally, and all but prevented travel through the Wetlands below the mountain fortress, almost perfectly bisecting the land into North and South.

Khadgar would say that they must do as Lord Anduin Lothar would have had them do, and storm the fortress to rid their lands of the Horde, but there was few who had the strength that the old Stormwind Knight Captain had held, and fewer still with the grit to lead such a force into battle.

Khadgar would have chosen Turalyon for this, but the Paladin was more than preoccupied with just keeping the peace between the Alliance members, and monitoring the Dark Portal via Nethergarde, not to mention the beginnings of the rebuilding of the Nation of Stormwind. There simply was too much to do to deal with the Dragonmaw at the present time, which worried many, Khadgar included.

"What ho, Archmage Khadgar!" the lead knight said as their group rode up to the approaching wizard.

"What news do you bring?" Khadgar asked without preamble. The sooner these knights gave their message, the sooner they could return to their other duties, and leave Khadgar to his mysteries and other problems.

"We bring news from Nethergarde, Archmage," The knight said, and Khadgar felt his heart drop like a stone. It was unlikely that their troubles with the Horde were even close to over at this point. All his thoughts and worries concerning Gul'dan and his servants would have to wait, if this news from the area of the Dark Portal's rift was indeed true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus swept through the sea of students, his pace causing his normally stiff joints to creak in protest, but nevertheless, he had to put an end to the scene before him. "Argus!" he called, silencing the distraught man from ranting at the innocent students around him. In moments, he had swept past the front rows of frightened and pale faced students, gently removed the still and rigid feline from her place of public display, and beckoned to the caretaker to follow him.

It must have been apparent that he was brokering no arguments, as even the muted students parted to make way for him in his return. Professor Lockhart, ever to appear important, stepped forward as they were making their way out of the crowd of students, "My office is nearest, Headmaster… just upstairs… please feel free."

Loud and self important though the man may be, but at this moment Albus was grateful that deep in the blond's heart there was some shred of decency left. "Thank you, Gilderoy," Albus said as they past him, the man following in Albus' wake.

The frightened stares of the student followed them as they passed, but Albus had time only to meet the gaze of one student, the question already forming in his mind. Harry Potter stood somewhere near to the back of the crowd, watching with a level of concerned interest, but neither amusement nor malice, which both relieved and worried Albus all the more. He was certain that if the boy had been behind this, he would not have been old enough to keep a straight face with the amount of reaction that it had stirred.

But if Harry was not involved, then there was an even greater threat to the school afoot, which was cause for great concern. Both Minerva and Severus joined their procession up to the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor's office, all but ignoring the flurry of motion from the vain self portraits that lined the room as they gathered around the main desk.

The real Gilderoy lit candles and set them around the perimeter of the table to add light, for which Albus was grateful. His eyesight had deteriorated with age after all. Laying the feline upon the surface, Albus immediately went to work examining the inert form, bending almost to the point of touching the cat with his nose as he searched for any signs of life and what sort of magic had inflicted her so.

While his normal senses failed, and even his knowledge of wizardry fell short to discover exactly what had happened, Albus was somewhat impressed that the simple act of connecting with the ambient magic of Hogwarts came to his aid in this moment, allowing him to sense, and almost see the wafting of dark magic emanate from the furred creature. After some unsuccessful counter curses, he was finally able to come to a conclusion. "She's not dead, Argus," Albus said softly, silencing the room of both Lockhart's rambling and the Caretakers sobs.

"Not dead?" the man choked, looking through the wizened hands that had been covering his tear stained face. "But, why's she all… all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been petrified…" Albus confirmed. "But how, I cannot say…"

The man broke down again, but Albus continued in a soft, reassuring voice, "We will be able to cure her, Argus. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

That seemed to be the end of the matter for the time being. Lockhart and Severus seemed to get rather at each other when the Defense Professor suggested that he brew the Restorative draft, but Albus did not pay any attention to either of them. Charging Minerva to deliver the petrified feline and the still sobbing caretaker to the hospital wing, he stared out of the office window for a long moment, his brilliant mind reaching back fifty years to the last time that the dreaded Chamber was heard of.

Oh, Albus had a sinking suspicion of who may be behind this, especially if Harry was clear of any wrongdoing, for which Albus was eternally grateful. But the real question was how Tom Riddle managed to once again infiltrate the school under Albus' watch. It seemed illogical that another would have both the abilities that the man possessed, as well as the knowledge and background to unleash the monster of the Chamber.

And like last time, Albus wondered what poor student would be standing ready to take the blame one news of these attacks (for he had no doubt that there would be more, little though they could do now to prevent them,) made it to the Ministry and the Daily Prophet.

If he could work fast enough, perhaps he could seek out the source of this and put a stop to the madness before anything got too out of hand. But it would require help, and of a most unusual nature.

Albus thought hard, approaching Harry for this level of assistance would be a gamble, but the boy had clear insight to the workings of the castle and his magic was unparalleled anywhere else in the student body. Surely there would be little harm in requesting the boy's assistance in locating the Chamber or at the least keeping his, and that of his follower's, eyes and ears open for any disturbances in the magic of the castle.

The Headmaster just hoped that he hadn't been too quick to pass judgment over the boy, and that he was sinisterly hiding some motivation for causing this disturbance, but there was little time to lose in this event, and Albus wanted nothing more than to avoid the catastrophe that had haunted Headmaster Dippet to his dying day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan couldn't say he was shocked when Professor Dumbledore summoned him up to his office a few days into November. He was however surprised when he entered and the old man was not seated behind his desk, but rather pacing the room in long, sweeping strides. "Ah, Harry. Please, have a seat." The Headmaster said, not even pausing in his rounds about the office, and Nobu'tan obeyed, curious watching the man's progress.

"Naturally you are curious as to why I've summoned you," Dumbledore said after another two laps around his office, "and I will firstly assure you that you are in no trouble, nor under any suspicion of the current events of the school. If anything, I wish to add your mind to mine in trying to solve this mystery before anything else had a chance to occur."

The straightforwardness caught Nobu'tan off guard, and he blinked once silently as he watched the Headmaster pause in his pacing, looking over at him through worn eyes that had lost their usual merry twinkle.

"I… yes, I accept." Nobu'tan managed to spit out, wondering what sort of game the old man might be playing, but knowing that he had little choice but to play along, for now.

"Good, I am very glad that you're willing to help me," Dumbledore said, before continuing his rounds of the office, "Not that you'd be aware of the matter, but I will fill you in on some of the details that surround the shock after the Halloween feast. Fifty years ago, a series of attacks on students occurred, perpetrated by someone calling them self 'the Heir of Slytherin'. Naturally that in and of itself contains quite a deal that we could discuss at a later time, but for the sake of keeping to the basics of this case, I will be brief for the moment."

Dumbledore stopped in his pacing and started to finger through some books on his walls, speaking even as he did so, "This heir, whether they were what they claimed or not, had some means of, according to legend, unleashing a monster into the school that attacked and petrified several students, much like Mr. Filch's cat. The disaster ended with the death of a student, before someone was caught and blamed for the attacks, although I still hold doubts that the person caught and punished was in fact the culprit."

The Headmaster gave up looking for whatever book he was seeking, and continued his rounds of the office, "If, somehow the same person, or another like the first is going about the same actions, they must be stopped before another death can occur. Hogwarts was nearly closed permanently last time, and I shudder at what the Board of Governors and the Ministry would want to do if word got out that it was happening all over again. For the time being, I urge you to inform your friends, Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, to keep themselves safe and their eyes open, along with their _associates_."

Nobu'tan refused to react to the snipe at the Headmaster knowing about the connections that the warlock had made in the school, as he had already surmised that the man was learning the power of Mages already, as it sang in his blood from halfway across the school.

"I understand Headmaster, and what shall I do in the meantime as well?" he asked, wondering what the old man might have in store for him personally.

"I want to use your keen observational skills, and quite frankly, younger eyes, to help me investigate this matter, as well as tap into the Arcane magic that you have in abundance to see if we can root out the cause of this before it gets out of hand again. I believe it is time that we both put past events from last year behind us, and work together for the sake of the school and the other students." Dumbledore answered honestly.

Nobu'tan however, felt no duty toward the other humans here, as he wanted nothing more than to achieve his goal and return to Azeroth, but nevertheless he smiled, "I'll do it, but there has to be a level of trust between us for it to work, and I'm not only referring to me teaching you about the Arcane."

Albus nodded, silently accepting the terms that he would hold no more secrets from Nobu'tan. "You are quite unlike either of your parents, Harry. But I still think they would be very proud of the young man you have grown up to be…"

The orc raised human doubted that severely, if the old man only knew, but held his tongue. "Shall we begin immediately?" he asked, and the Headmaster smirked, the twinkle returning to his eyes at last.

"I had thought you would never ask," he said, beckoning for the warlock to join him as they left the office. Trekking through the familiar corridors with the Headmaster was a rather abrupt change of pace for Nobu'tan, as he had not thought that he would be working so close to his effectual enemy here, least of all for a common goal, but the danger to himself that this 'Heir of Slytherin,' presented could not be ignored either.

It would simply be his rotten luck, which he had stubbornly had since entering this world, that the unknown person or persons would be after Nobu'tan himself in the end, and he would have been pulled into this mess at a later time regardless.

The scene of the attack was much the same, although someone, probably Filch, had cleaned away the water that had been covering the floor from the girl's bathroom to the area where the red letters still gleamed in the torchlight.

The pair took opposite ends of the corridor, investigating everything that seemed out of place as they worked toward each other. Nobu'tan remained quiet, trying to draw upon the powers of the castle itself to lend any aid to his senses, just in case there was some clue that he himself wouldn't be able to find, like a magical signature, but there was nothing.

Although there were a handful of clues of a more mundane nature to be found," Professor," Nobu'tan called, staring at the nearby window as the old man came over. Pointing, the warlock drew the Headmaster's attention to the long line of spiders that were systematically leaving the caste through a tiny crack between the stone and the glass of the window.

"That is extremely odd," Albus said, frowning, "I've never witnessed spiders acting in such a peculiar manner. It could very well be related to what happened. Good work, Harry."

Turning back to an area of the stone floor near the wall, Dumbledore pointed, "I too, have found something out of place. See these marks here, scorch marks in an enchanted castle that should either have resisted such damage, or quickly repaired it of its own accord; a clear indication that whatever happened here was the work of some powerful spell or magical creature."

"Any ideas what may be the cause of such lasting damage?" Nobu'tan asked, wondering if the old man had already starting working out the question.

"A few notions, but it's far too soon, and there's too little evidence to support any of it just yet." The Headmaster said with a small shrug of defeat.

"Have your keen powers of the Arcane sensed anything regarding this area Harry?" Dumbledore asked after a few more minutes of searching. Nobu'tan had no answers for him however. "Nothing, at least that I can passively detect. There are rituals and small spells I could try, but they usually require a specific target, therefore knowing what I'm looking for is a large factor, otherwise I'm liable to find just about anything, related or not."

Then, wanting to divert attention from the inability for the Arcane to crack this puzzle wide open, Nobu'tan asked, "Sir, where did the water come from that was on the floor here that night?"

"That, my dear boy is a very good question, and luckily one that we may have a witness to account for," Dumbledore said, beckoning him and heading toward the girls lavatory. The young warlock halted just outside the door, unsure if it was permissible for him to enter, even in the company of the Headmaster.

"Do not worry Harry; I highly doubt that any girls have used this bathroom in years, at least with any sort of regularity." The older man reassured him, and hesitantly Nobu'tan entered, bypassing a large ' _Out of Order_ ,' sign.

The interior was rather gloomy for a bathroom, Nobu'tan thought. the mirror above the row of sinks was cracked and spotted in many places, and the young warlock wondered what this meant for the whole 'self repairing, damage resistant,' castle bit that Dumbledore had tried to feed him earlier, but then again, there could be a reason for this room being an exception to that.

The floor was exceedingly damp in places, while the stall doors were flaking and covered in scratches. One of them was even hanging barely onto its frame by rusted hinges, one of which had already broken.

"Myrtle," Dumbledore called, "Could you come out for a word please…"

There was a small gasp of surprise, and a pale, translucent head came floating up over the stalls. It was a girl, no older in appearance then the other students at the school, but the robes she wore were decided of an older style.

"Professor Dumbledore." She said respectfully, "Yes, what do you want to talk about." The girl eyed Nobu'tan for a moment, and the orc raised human felt rather uncomfortable with the look that the ghost gave him. It was frighteningly familiar to the look that Sarti would give him when the Succubus wanted to stay around and play games with him, not that he ever allowed that.

Suppressing a shudder, Nobu'tan listened as Dumbledore asked about the night of Halloween, and the ghost answered that she had indeed flooded the bathroom that night, on account of some other specter upsetting her at a ghost-only party that had been held in the dungeons the same night. "Did you happen to see or hear anything going on just outside when you flooded the room?" he asked in the middle of this, taking a moment where the Headmaster lulled in his questioning.

"I wasn't paying attention…" the ghost said dramatically…

"Ah, well. Thank you for the information Myrtle, and do keep a sharp eye out in future. There's something strange going on here, and we could use all the extra sets of eyes we can get to find out who was behind this." Dumbledore said, and the ghost child nodded enthusiastically.

When they turned to leave, she sent Nobu'tan a little wave, which he hesitantly returned, before quickly catching up with the Headmaster just outside the bathroom. "Well, I'm afraid that seems to be all that this scene will tell us for the moment, Harry." Dumbledore said, brushing a tiny specks on his robes, "I will review what we've learned, and when we next meet, say, next Saturday evening, I shall give you more information of what I've deduced from this information, as well as more background to what happened the last time. Hopefully from that, we can together start making some headway into this mystery."

"As you wish, Professor," Nobu'tan said, absently checking the time, and finding it an hour and a half after midnight. Dumbledore saw the time as well. "Yes, it's probably best that you go right up to your dormitory now, I shall escort you, just in case we happen upon any of the other teachers. Wouldn't want you to get into unnecessary trouble when you were assisting me, now would we?"

Nobu'tan shook his head, but was inwardly annoyed. Not only was he more than capable of getting from here to Ravenclaw tower undetected on his own, but he would have rather taken the time to continue preparing for a small excursion that he was contemplating, for himself and possibly Theodore and Draco, to head into the forest and learn how to fight alongside their demonic minions in real life situations.

Unfortunately, that would have to be postponed until some far distant time, as it seemed that Dumbledore was keen on taking his weekend evenings now for their little excursions around the castle to try and solve this case regarding the Heir of Slytherin and his mysterious chamber.

If Nobu'tan recalled correctly, wasn't there something in the book, _Hogwarts, a History_ that mention Slytherin in connection to a hidden chamber? He'd have to look at the book the next opportunity it presented itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus wasn't terrible sure what the purpose of himself and Albus learning the strange Arcane magic that Potter had shared with Miss Granger, who then in turn had started teach her fellow non-Slytherin students, but as the Headmaster was adamant that it would be useful to them, he spoke of none of his complaints aloud.

Still, he had to admit that it was actually was quite a rush when he first made connection to the magical powers that had been hidden dormant under the school, and proved to be a most intriguing subject to learn about every time he and Albus had their weekly meetings to discuss the progress of the school, and indulge in a bit of practice.

Although it was clear that the older man was quite distracted of late by the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets; Severus had never encountered anything like it in his own school days, granted James Potter and his little club of miscreants were trouble enough for him to not want to actively go searching for more in those days, but the fact that so much had happened in just the two years that Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts was rather… disconcerting.

When he had brought this notion up to the Headmaster, Albus had just looked at him for a long moment, "Naturally all this would start occurring the moment Harry returned to our world," he replied nonchalantly, as though it was the most basic fact of life there could be. "Aside from the mysterious means that the boy returned to us, there are simply far too many of Voldemort's old supporters that would wish harm on the boy to simply allow him a normal childhood. And that's not to mention the work of Voldemort himself to try again to kill the boy…"

Severus remained silent, the point conceded to Albus. "but that is not to say that this event in particular has, as of yet, anything to do with Harry, it simply had the bad luck to be occurring while he is here at Hogwarts," Albus continued, but the words didn't seem to quite reach his eyes, which had remained dull at the thought of the Chamber of Secrets and its constant threat to the school.

"You're still working with the Harry to try and find out what exactly is causing these attacks?" Severus asked. It had been a month since Halloween, and there had been another attack, this time on Muggleborn Gryffindor first year, Colin Creevey, who had apparently snuck out after hours to get food from the kitchens, although why was still unknown. They had found the boy's petrified body on the stairs leading back to Gryffindor tower in the night, and promptly brought him to the Hospital Wing, to wait with Filch's cat for the antidote from Professor Sprout's mandrakes.

"Of course, Harry has been extraordinarily helpful with the task," Albus said, smiling slightly, "I hope that through this, he may yet grow to trust us here at Hogwarts a bit more, and perhaps the remainder of out hesitancies with him will just disappear."

Severus highly doubted that, but said nothing. "And what more have you two discovered regarding the case?" he inquired.

"Unfortunately little," Albus said, his face returning to a grim frown. "The attack on Mr. Creevey was identical to that of Mrs. Norris, aside from the absence of water on the ground. We did find that the boy's camera, which he had been holding to his face, was ruined by whatever attacked him, which is an even more interesting puzzle, but not an answer to anything we already wish to know."

"Harry did make an interesting connection that whatever was happening was a reaction to the reflections, either from the water for the feline, or the many small mirrors within the camera, but that just leads us back to square one. We are no closer to discovering what spell or creature or artifact is causing the damage, and we are less likely to find out if its abilities are being modified or hindered by the circumstances of the attacks." Albus added, which seemed at least hopeful in Severus' mind.

"It's a direction at least," he commented, and the Headmaster nodded, casually conjuring an orb of frostfire in his hand, before letting the spell dissipate and starting over. Severus was rather envious of the old man in that regard. This new magic was something that Albus had thrived in, it being more instinctual and less of study.

Severus on the other hand had a more difficult time with it, but was still coming along, though his time to practice was more strict than the Headmaster, who was expected to be locked away in his office for hours on end, while Severus had classes to teach and essays to grade that sapped quite a bit of his time.

"How have your private sessions with Harry gone, while we're on the topic," Albus commented, and Severus smirked in spite of himself. The boy was quite gifted around a cauldron, knowing exactly what properties many herbs had, and even had interesting ways of combining them for potions and oils that even Severus hadn't heard of before.

"He is, quite unlike what I had expected," he admitted, having even been allowed to watch as the boy used various herbs to create enchanted ink for his quills, a process that while normally would have been dull and tedious, Severus had found quite interesting and extraordinary in its concept. "The boy treats everything in his life like magic, as though he was raised knowing nothing but a magical existence, and it comes to him as easily as breathing."

"That is the same impression I've come to conclude as well," Albus agreed, "Harry has grown up surrounded, not by the magical world we are accustomed to, but by magic itself. It beats within him like an extra heartbeat, and I doubt that anyone could convince the boy to go into the muggle world again and hide who he is. I realize that the Dursleys household was a terrible mistake now, and I won't attempt to make the boy return there again."

Severus nodded, that seemed to be for the best. Aside from Petunia's intense dislike for her sister and anything that reminded her of Lily, there was indeed a lack of magic that was quite disagreeable to Harry Potter, who seemed to be the height of a Magus, factoring in the powers he held that were by and large unheard of in the rest of the wizarding world. The legend that the boy had accumulated from simply living when he was one year old would only grow exponentially when, and if, it was revealed all that the boy could actually do. That alone would frighten his opposition into trying to kill the boy before he could realize his full potential.

Which led their thoughts back around to the beginning, "It makes sense then, why so much occurrs around the boy," Severus stated, piquing Albus' interest. "He is a natural repository of magical energy, a nexus if you will, and events gravitate toward him because of his power, even those who are his enemies and want him dead won't be able to leave him be even if they wanted to. Unconsciously they will be drawn to him."

"Which just indicates how much more work we have in making sure he's kept out of these disasters." Albus agreed, walking right into the trap that Severus had laid.

"Then how do you explain allowing him to walk headlong into this disaster, Albus. We know that the boy has Dark Magic, and uses it from time to time, albeit not recently. And no matter what he says, that fact alone negates any argument to the contrary. So why in Merlin's name are you allowing him to seek out whatever dark magic is attack those within the castle?"

"Your concern is valid," Albus replied, casually talking up a cup of tea that had been brought to his office by a house elf, unseen by Severus. "But I feel that there is merit to this, as the darkness that Harry uses, and the dark magic that undoubted is petrifying our charges, is still quite different. You see, as I've grown to understand the Arcane, I can tell that it is a pure expression of Magic, and therefore incorruptible by dark magic. Even when feeling powerful emotion, it requires one to collect themselves to cast a spell of any magnitude, even the intensity of fire magic. The Dark Arts, as you well know Severus, are born out of the wild rampage of emotion."

Severus saw the connection, "You believe that there is something else that the boy is hiding, like another magical ability that he possesses that he has conveniently not mentioned."

"More than that…" Albus pointed out, "I believe, that as our magic has its Dark Arts, that there is an opposite of the Arcane that is dark in nature, and that _that_ is what Harry practices. As whatever is attacking our students is a somewhat known entity, in that it happened fifty years ago, it cannot be related to Harry and his powers, and whether the boy would admit it or not, I can tell that the school has grown on him during his stay here. Harry will do what he can to help us, even if he does not trust us, at the least to gain favors, perhaps freedom to go as he pleases during the summer."

The Headmaster held up a hand as Severus was about to argue that point as well, "I know, letting him wander freely is most unwise, and I certainly do not wish to allow that, but there has to be a point of compromise and trust to make this work, and if Harry refuses to trust us at all, he will not allow such a compromise to be made, let alone honor it. He needs to be given chances to show us that he is willing, and we need the opportunity to show him that we are willing to give him that trust, if he works to earn it as well."

"If you say so Albus," Severus replied, frowning, "I just hope that you know what you're doing,"


	22. C21: Partial Answers

**New Poll up on my profile page regarding the idea of reposting my original ANP story, after a thorough review and rewrite from myself as a side project, to be done in addition to TSR and RoDV. Please go check it out and state your opinion there. Many thanks to those who review constructively, your words are appreciated. ~F**

 **Edited: Many thanks to those who pointed out the continuity error... the failing of writing two drastically different, yet dynamic stories with similar leads. It has been corrected ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty One**

 **Partial Answers**

Draco was shocked by how quickly the year had flown by from September to December. It was already time for the winter break to begin, and it felt as though little had happened regarding the Hogwart's curriculum. Although, to be fair, he had been extremely busy between the Chamber of Secrets events and training a new round of warlocks in the ranks of Slytherin house to counter Granger and her mages.

Oh yes, he had learned what she was calling her people, and the magical of the 'Arcane' that they practiced. It was interesting that Harry, ever the aloof Ravenclaw, had decided not to comment on that little fact that he knew another completely different aspect of magic that he just happened to forget when training Draco, Theodore, and their fathers back the previous summer.

There would need to be words about this… that was a certainty.

It was a surprise that the Headmaster had actually allowed Harry to come back to Malfoy Manor for the entire Christmas holiday, perhaps the man as going soft in his old age, but Draco refused to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth, he would just take Harry and run when the day came to get back on the Express.

Surprisingly that plan went off without a hitch when the time came for it, with assistance from Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini. Cornering Harry just inside the entrance hall with his things already shrunken and in his pocket, the five Slytherin warlocks surrounded him and purposefully started the trek out of the castle, only pausing long enough for Harry to wave at Granger and some of the boy's other friends as they passed, but nothing more.

Draco caught the irritated look in Granger's eye for their move, and smirked at his little victory. She obviously wanted to acquire a little more tutelage from the boy before heading back to the muggle world, but he had denied her that opportunity. All the better for him and his group then…

Corralling Harry into an empty compartment, Draco, Theo and Blaise surrounded him while Crabbe and Goyle blocked the entrance, "Well Harry, you have a bit of explaining to do it seems," Draco said, only the slightest hint of irritation and betrayal shown in his voice.

"Oh, I do, do I?" Harry retorted, still looking for all the world as though he were in charge of the situation, and not Draco, "and what makes you think that all of you combined are strong enough to make me do anything?" he added threateningly.

But Draco was prepared for this show of force, "You are correct that you could probably kill us all without breaking a sweat," he said, but smirked, "However, you'd rather hang onto your most loyal group of supporters in the school so you won't be doing that. Now then," he added, pointing a seat for the stronger warlock to take, and Harry paused for only a moment or two before sitting, Theo and Blaise taking positions on either side of him while Draco paced the frightfully short aisle of the compartment.

"Tell me, when were you planning on letting us warlocks in on the secret about the magic of the Arcane that you so willingly shared with Granger of all people…?"

Draco had been ready for many types of responses, but one of the few he was not ready for was Harry to burst into fit of laugher. Draco blinked, unsure how to respond, even as Theodore and Blaise looked uncomfortable.

"You honestly believe that I felt the need to hide the Arcane from you?" Harry said, wiping a small tear from his eyes, amusement still clear in his face, "You are learning the Arcane, or at least the opposite side of the coin when it comes to the Arcane, Fel Magic and that of the Void is the darker nature of the Arcane, so your thinking I've cheated you from learning the weaker aspect rather than only the more powerful one?"

Theodore and Blaise looked suitable abashed at that, but Draco was not fooled, "You know both, so why can't we learn both?"

Harry sighed, "That entails part of where I grew up, and the magic of that world, which greatly eclipses that of here, combined with our nature allowed me to absorb so much extra magical energy that I was capable of reverting excess energy to forming the pathways required for both aspects. Because you learned it here, and not on that world, your options are limited, so forgive me for selecting the more useful of the options for you…"

Draco keenly caught that the boy had said 'most useful' and not 'best' but he didn't comment upon it. It was growing obvious that while Harry may have not done what was in their best interests, he had still given them all a leg up on the world by teaching them this in the first place.

"But why Granger?" he continued regardless, earnestly wanting to know.

"Who else to lead your competition?" Harry answered immediately and honestly, "Warlocks grow through trial and combat, so inevitable I can see the eventual requirement of some sort of inevitable struggle to make you all ready for what is to come…"

Draco wanted desperately to ask, 'and what is to come,' but he had a sinking feeling that, not only wouldn't Harry tell him that, but that it would end up being part of what had to do with the artifacts that Harry needed to gather for the demon lords.

"Once we return after the winter holidays," Harry continued, "I will see to actually getting our expedition into the dark forest underway. With a bit of luck I can slip away from Dumbledore's notice soon and we will have free reign to train you in survival skills regarding your demonic partners and abilities."

Draco finally took his seat, satisfied that he had learned all he could, and that Harry was taking control of their group directly again. "Due to the observation I have under Dumbledore, I need to stay somewhat distant from you for a while longer," Harry said, almost as though reading Draco's mind, "but I am with you over the Mages. They are proving their worth as an effective distraction for Dumbledore, who is not focusing on the Chamber of Secrets and learning their magic enough to be too concerned with your movements, which is our advantage."

The rest of the train ride was spent plotting and preparing for their next stages of growth, and making sure that Blaise was going to be included when the former Death Eaters turned warlocks gathered to practice over the winter vacation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius waited stoically on the train station for the Hogwarts Express to pull into view. Spread throughout the crowd of parents and young children, he spotted the occasional other Death Eater turned Warlock, but they made no move to contact each other directly, under Lucius commands no less. They would only approach when their children arrived, as to avoid scrutiny for their old secret lives, which were sure to attract attention if they were seen together in public too often.

This sort of paranoid manipulation was Lucius' specialty, and he did truly have another reason for seeking solitude before Harry and his son arrived. He was sure that there was something afoot with the demons and Potter, but he needed to collect himself before approaching the boy for answers, and be prepared to wring the boy thoroughly to make sure that he was not lied to in the process. the only issue with that was that Lucius had no idea how powerful the boy was as a warlock, and his current affiliation with the dark power of the void led him to believe that it was far superior to incantation based wand magic, which would lend the boy terrible advantage if he proved hostile to any sort of interrogation.

Not that Lucius wanted it to boil over to that point, but one must always be prepared for such a thing. The Death Eaters had greatly feared and respected Alastor Moody for a reason during the first war.

Soon enough the scarlet engine appeared, and the parents started to crowd the platform, waving and calling for their children, but Lucius remained where he was. Draco knew their chosen location to meet, and Lucius had planned this to be a routine for his entire stay at Hogwarts. Better to know where to look than to be running all over the platform like a pack of Weasleys, trying to scoop up this or that brat with impunity as they scattered like chickens.

Soon enough the blond hair of his son was visible, alongside his companions, who all flanked the raven head of Potter like a vanguard. Lucius approved the effect that it had on those around them, student and adult alike. A channel of sorts was created, allowing their group to move freely toward Lucius, as though bringing a prisoner to his warden, which naturally was not the case.

Lucius had made arrangements for Potter to be given whatsoever freedoms he desired, especially after learning of how Dumbledore had striven to contain the child 'for his own good.' There were limits naturally, as to where Lucius would allow the boy to go alone, but he intended to discuss that with Potter at the same time that he breached the topic of the Burning Legion, probably before even, so that he had a renewal of trust from the boy as he started to ask difficult questions.

"Welcome home, Draco, Theodore, Harry…" Lucius said, even as the other three Slytherins, Crabbe Jr. Goyle Jr, and Blaise Zabini splintered off to locate their respective parents.

"Greetings Father," Draco said, even as the others nodded graciously with the unspoken greeting. But Lucius merely nodded in reply to the group, and set off toward the apparition point, where adults were legally allowed to side-along apparate their children to and from the station. Theodore Nott broke off along the way to meet with his father, who shot a concerned glance at Lucius, which spoke volumes for the other former Death Eater.

Lucius guessed that perhaps the other man had guessed at some of the signs and questioned his personal demons regarding the Legion, in which case he would be most interested in knowing what explanation that Potter had for himself regarding that.

Offering his arm to the pair, Lucius noted that while his own son immediately took hold, Potter hesitated, as though he greatly disliked the aspect of magical transportation. Nevertheless, Lucius waited for the boy to prepare himself, and turned on the spot, whisking the three of them back to Malfoy Manor.

House elves appeared immediately to deprive the boys of their luggage, apparating it up the three flights of stairs to their rooms. Draco immediately went to find his mother, and announce that they had returned, while Lucius had, conveniently placed his own hand over Potter, hindering his ability to move away from the Pureblood Lord. "A word if you please, Mr. Potter…" he said coolly, leading the boy to his private office, closing the door with a resounding snap behind him.

"What is the meaning of this Lucius?" Potter asked, feigning a look of surprise and outrage.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Potter, I think you've been expecting this conversation since you started teaching us all to use your fel magic…" Lucius countered, which deflated the boy's attempt at bravado.

"Ah, figured some of it out, have you… and what? You've come for questions, perhaps demands of me then? Mayhap I will be in a position for certain leniencies, when the time comes." Potter said, switching tactics to a far more sinister attitude, which did startle Lucius somewhat, but under his impenetrable mask of ice he appeared unfazed.

"Why are you so intent on allowing the Burning Legion onto our world, especially if they only aim to destroy it?" Lucius asked without preamble, despite his original desire to ease into the topic, as it seemed that would no longer be possible. "What do you plan to gain from it?"

"Oh, if only you knew Lucius…" Potter sneered, and Lucius caught a sense of long practice and tutelage in this particular art of sinister intimidation, but he would not be shaken from his questions. Eventually, Potter continued, "very well, as what I can consider my most trusted, if not slippery, friends, I will enlighten you to the real plans I have for the Legion, and how I will use them to achieve my own goals, although it will take much time to explain everything and impress the importance of secrecy upon you."

Lucius was no stranger to such secrets and merely nodded, urging the boy to continue with his tale.

"Across the vast Nether that separates the worlds, lies the jewel of the lust of the Legion, the world Azeroth, upon which my old master, Gul'dan of the Stormreaver clans of the orcish Horde waits I hope even now, for the power of the Dark Lords of the Legion so that he can subject worlds without number to his will, creating a paradise for his people. He raised me, although I do not have a clue how he came to be in possession of me, since it is clear that I am from this world." Potter started quietly.

Lucius tried to follow the narrative as the boy illustrated the almost fanciful world where he had lived, with almost medieval human kingdoms and creatures that he had never considered even existed. Of all the madness, he was chilled by the concept of the Death Knight the most, although it was equally strange to consider elves that were slaves to no one, as well as being tall and beautiful, although Potter… no, Nobu'tan, didn't describe them as such.

Once the boy was finished, Lucius stood for a solid moment in silence, digesting everything, before immediately going for his liquor cabinet behind his desk, and pouring two tall glasses of firewhiskey, offering one to the twelve year old. "Normally I wouldn't consider such a thing," he said as the boy sniffed the strong drink, "but I feel you are long overdue for something to dull all the madness you've endured since returning here, if even a portion of what you've told me is true."

"I assure you, it is all true," Nobu'tan replied, taking a long swig of the liquid, before choking slightly, though not dissuaded from finishing the beverage.

Lucius drank more slowly, contemplating the madness that the boy was already planning just to connect these worlds. "So that's the key to all the riddles, Azeroth, and the warlock Gul'dan. You want to connect our world to Azeroth, and you need the Legion to teach you the magic to do so before you can accomplish it."

Nobu'tan nodded, accepting the summary of his story. "But that begs the question," Lucius continued, "Do you truly need to uphold your end of the bargain to the Legion then? Once they give you the magic to open a portal to them, just open one to Azeroth instead and be done with it…"

"One does not simply double cross the Legion…" the young warlock said coolly, and Lucius shivered in spite of himself. Having witnessed one of their demons first hand, he supposed that it would indeed be most unwise to intentionally pit oneself against them unless you were confident that you could hold off their assaults.

"I suppose that is true, but can these demons be trusted…" Lucius said, growing desperate to have some sort of solid ground to understand the future of their world.

"Of course we cannot trust them," Nobu'tan replied, "That's why they must teach me the magic before I allow them into our world, so that I become useful to them once again, to reenter Azeroth as their agent."

"But would it just be easier to continue this Gul'dan's work here on earth in his stead?" Lucius asked, still greatly concerned by the madness that boy seemed to cling to.

"If you, Lord Malfoy, were separated from your family by the dark eternity of the Void, would you stop at nothing to reunite with them?" Nobu'tan challenged.

There were no words. Lucius sat there like one punched in the stomach. The level of extreme measures that he would take, even had taken, to protect his family seemed to wither away in the face of this level of devotion and love that the boy gave to this orcish warlock.

"You misunderstand the situation I think," Nobu'tan said after several moments of silence. "The Legion had already set its sights on this world long before they approached me to bring them here. Even if I were to fail, they would simply find another, and start over again. The Legion may not seem it, but they have patience to last eons after we are all dead. This world will burn, eventually, but we are securing an escape for those of us who will willingly allow them access to this world, in exchange for safe transport to another. Think of it Lucius, an entire world that is even more outdated than this one, ripe for the taking. Your control over the Minister of magic will pale in comparison to the human kingdoms that you could assist the Horde with perverting and turning against one another. And you family will be far safer there than here…"

Nobu'tan turned to leave the room at that point, "I think Draco may come searching for us soon, think on my words Lucius, but know that I will work on collecting the artifacts with or without you, and the Legion will win in the end. Do you wish to strand in their way, or at their side?"

And without another word, the boy departed from Lucius' office, yet the aura of heaviness that had accompanied the exchange and the terrible truth remained. Now Lucius had to make a terrible decision, and then convince the other Death Eaters of his choice. Work for the Legion, or burn with this world in its defense?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan smirked as he exited Lord Malfoy's office. The man was cunning and sly, yet when faced with the bold truth the man was as easy to read as any other. He would take his time, but in the end his slimy skin would want some way to slip out of the catastrophe that was to come, and he would return to Nobu'tan's aid. It was guaranteed to happen.

Instead of actually looking for Draco, Nobu'tan turned toward the massive Malfoy library, keenly interested on seeing what knowledge concerning Runes, Arithmancy, and the transportation methods of their world had to offer. He was close, Nobu'tan thought, to discovering a way to create portals, if only temporary ones through the use of the Arcane or Fel magic, but he would need great stores of power to create a fully functional, permanent portal.

From his guess at the memory of the Dark Portal, Runestones would be the key to powering it, along with a massive charge of Void energy. From what Gul'dan had told him, it had taken over a hundred warlocks months to build and set everything in place, then thousands of slaves sacrificed their souls and life forces to tear the hold in space and time to Azeroth. Naturally Nobu'tan wasn't about to start that large of a scale, and be noticed by those he'd rather not have on him just yet. Definitely start small, a portal from Hogsmeade to Diagon or something equally simple.

The mountains of books were gratefully enchanted to assist in directing Nobu'tan to what he desire, and the selection of Rune based tomes and scrolls was quite impressive. Pouring over the different texts, Nobu'tan was able to decipher that there was indeed a great deal more to the art than he had suspected, but it boiled down to a simple understanding of the language, and weaving magic into the runes to suit his purposes.

A figure appeared in the doorway to the library as he read, and Nobu'tan looked up to see the elegant face of Narcissa Malfoy. "I've found him Draco," she called gently down the corridor, "like any Ravenclaw, he is holed up in the library."

Nobu'tan smiled slightly, not caring about the edge of teasing in her words. "Good day, Lady Malfoy," he said, rising from his seat and giving the lady of the house a moderate bow.

"And good evening to you, Mr. Potter," she replied, further mocking him as he turned to realize that he had been both speaking with Lucius and researching far longer than he had thought. "Dinner is almost prepared, and Draco was growing concerned when he couldn't find you. I believe he wants to work on your summer assignments together for a bit before we eat."

"Ah, of course, thank you, Lady Malfoy," Nobu'tan said, setting the book on Runes aside on the small table next to the leather armchair he had been sitting in. Narcissa glided forward a bit, turning her head to catch the title of the book, "You have an interest in the study of ancient runes?" she asked, a smile flashing on her face momentarily.

"Oh yes," Nobu'tan said, an idea forming in his mind, "more so because of something I had seen before, that I was surprised that was not part of the wizarding world already. I'm sure Draco has told you all about my personal project of creating large scale transportation portals to eclipse all know forms of magical transportation."

"Oh, yes, he had mentioned something to that nature…" the woman responded.

"I didn't think that Lucius was that big on such an art," Nobu'tan stated, looking thoughtful, although he knew exactly who had supplied such a large collection of the tomes. "So I suppose you much be an expert on the subject."

A soft smile returned, "I did specialize in Runes while at Hogwarts, although it was more for the sake of the subject rather than intent to do anything with them. As a Pureblood witch, it was more important to keep the bloodlines going and raise a family rather than chiseling away runs into stone and wood to create wards for others home and buildings."

"But it is a hobby you still greatly enjoy," Nobu'tan gently pressed, quickly spotting the flash of intense interest in the woman's eyes. After that, her answer was unneeded, as Nobu'tan was almost certain that he could use her in his quest to understand how to adapt orcish script into runes, a process that he had only started with Gul'dan before the Horde set off to Lordaeron and the unfortunate fallout due to his time in Dalaran and with Kel'Thuzad, which ended his tutelage with Gul'dan prematurely.

"I would be very grateful to see some of the work you've done with runes since leaving Hogwarts," Nobu'tan added as an afterthought, even as he passed Narcissa to go and locate Draco for himself, leaving the topic open to return to at a later date.

Draco turned out to be relatively easy to find, as the boy was waiting in the medium sized dueling hall on the ground floor of the manor, and Nobu'tan slipped in without a sound, watching as Draco practiced his abilities on a transfigured opponent that was enchanted to react as a living creature for the purposes of understanding effectiveness in spell work. Closing the door, which magically sealed itself, Nobu'tan paused to watch the Malfoy heir.

The boy was nimble dodging the weak stinging hexes that the automaton would throw at him, even as his own Voidwalker impeded the mobility of his opponent, continuously casting and maintaining spells of corruption and affliction, weakening and sapping strength of the magically enchanted object. It was impressive, although Nobu'tan knew he was able to perform every spell that Draco was doing at this moment, but it was an odd sort of pride to watch a student practice and find them acceptable.

Soon enough, the boy was able to drain away the residual magic that powered the golem, and it deactivate, slowly beginning the process of repairing and recharging off the wards of the Manor, and Nobu'tan allowed his presence to be made know. "You're learning well," he said as he walked forward into the light of the room, causing Draco to turn in surprise.

"Harry…" he said, looking relieved.

"Expecting someone else?" Nobu'tan taunted jokingly. "You mother says dinner is almost ready, so you may want to go and get cleaned up before she wonders why doing schoolwork is so taxing as to have you sweating…"

"I… ah, yes you're right…" the boy said, dismissing his Voidwalker with a small gesture and running to one of the off-shooting rooms that did indeed have facilities required for his need.

Nobu'tan studied the row of enchanted golems for a time, before tapping into the power of the Arcane to manipulate time temporarily. Setting a small spell to recall his current state and energy levels, the orc raised warlock viciously attacked the construct, summoning a stream of imps with one hand while flames surged forth from the other, melting the false flesh of the golem even as it staggered into readiness from the surprise attack.

It seemed that he had managed to pick one of the more advanced automatons, as it fired out spells that were of a much higher caliber than simple stinging hexes, not that it mattered when Nobu'tan allowed his built up demonic energy unleash itself, transforming into the massive demonic form that he recalled from his flight from Dalaran.

Back then, he had simple gained some small increases in magical strength as well as size and physicality, but since then things had drastically changed. Where once he only stood a few feet taller with massively built arms and the usual contemporary of wings, horns and hooves to mark him as a demon, now Nobu'tan felt himself completely engulfed in demonic flames, making his abilities with both regular and fel fire far more dangerous and powerful, and he grinned with a mouth filled with razor sharp fangs.

Leaping through the air with just a single beat of his wings, Nobu'tan landed heavily behind the training automation, which slowly started to turn and fire at him, when the flaming claws from Nobu'tan's body latched onto it. With a simple grunt of exertion, Nobu'tan physically threw the golem across the room, the places where he had latched onto it seared and blacked from the fire consuming his body.

Volleys of fireballs and the snaking blasts of incinerating fel flames launched themselves at a thought from the transformed demon of fire, rapidly extinguishing all fight from the construct, and only when his opponent was reduced to a smoking ruin did Nobu'tan let up. With disconcerting effort, he transformed back to his human form, exhausted and drenched in sweat. But unlike Draco, he would not need the usage of a shower to hide his efforts. With a flick of his hand, Nobu'tan activate the time magic he had prepared prior, physically teleporting the short distance back to where he started, his clothing fresh and his muscles relaxed once more, as they had been before he started.

The wild imps he had summoned all disappeared when they realized that the fun was over, and Nobu'tan turned in time to see Draco emerge from the showers, still rubbing at his hair with a spare towel. "I thought I heard something and…" he paused when he spotted the ruined mass of magical flesh against the far wall, slowly attempting to repair itself.

"Do I even want to know what that did to you to deserve that?" he asked, and Nobu'tan chuckled.

"Hurry up Draco; it would not be wise to keep your mother waiting." He added, hurrying the boy back to return his towel, so that they could go and attend dinner with Lord and Lady Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione found that, even with all her knowledge and power of the Arcane which she could not only study but practice without the Ministry's knowledge in the muggle world, she still grew extremely bored from the time away from Hogwarts. Normally, her parents would go on some vacation for the winter holidays, usually under pretext to get away from all the sugar filled cavities that they'd inevitably have to clean once Christmas and New Years were past, but this year they opted for a quiet holiday at home, which only assisted in Hermione's boredom. There were only so many times that one could perform the same bits of magic safely, without threat of burning down her own house and that of the rest of the neighborhood.

Even her parents were currently unaware of her continue study of the Arcane, let alone that she knew such magic to begin with, so she was even more restricted in what she could or couldn't do regarding her new projects. So, to fill the time, she had written all of the members of her group of Mages, making sure that they knew to keep practicing what they could, and that the trace couldn't detect arcane magic at all. Granted, all of this had been within the first three days, and she was already out of new things to keep her engaged.

Thus, when the tapping of an owl at her window drew her attention, Hermione practically flew to let the creature in and get the letter from it. The beautifully regal eagle owl shook itself once before holding out a leg with a small scroll tied to it, before the bird shuffled to the back of a chair and waited patiently for a reply to take back to the sender.

Hermione took no time in quickly pouring over the letter, her own smile widening as she recognized Harry's careful and purposeful handwriting. The other Mage was inviting her to the Malfoy's Yule gathering, where many influential political and cultural people would be attending. ' _As one of the upcoming forces that will shake the foundation of the world, it is only natural that you should attend as well_.'

Hermione was elated, more so for being able to see Harry over the break rather than the gathering itself. She had explicitly noticed how Draco and his band of Slytherins had dominated every moment of Harry's time throughout the trip back to Kings Cross, and she had not appreciated the desperate move to monopolize the boy's time in the slightest. Now however, she would be able to ask some of the burning questions she had had regarding deep Arcane theory, and possibly even rub Draco's pointed, pale face in the fact that Harry had specifically invited her to his fancy Christmas party, regardless of what the Purebloods wanted to call it.

Writing a hasty acceptance on a fresh piece of parchment, she folded it around the owl's leg, which went very still for her to do this, before she opened the window once more for the bird to soar out over the lawns of the neighborhood.

She watched it for a short time, until it was hard to see as the bird arced over the distant trees and buildings, before she closed the window and sank happily onto her bed, energized once again to study some more in preparation for meeting with Harry on Christmas Eve.

She was more than sure her parents wouldn't mind, so long as she was home at a decent hour, if anything they'd probably give Harry the third degree about taking their daughter out for an evening, not that she viewed Harry in that light. He was more of an intellectual college rather than boyfriend material, and they were both far too young to even bother considering that aspect of a relationship anyway.

Naturally, she was correct in her presumptions, and upon the appointed day was seated in the family room, occasionally watching the clock as she waited to see how Harry would arrive to take her to the Malfoy's manor for the party. She wasn't the only one to be there waiting. Both her mother and father were lingering, both to see for themselves what boy was so interested in their daughter and know exactly how to expect her to return later that evening.

Hermione already had several ideas of how Harry could arrive, but she was not surprised when the whirling blue glow appeared momentarily outside, shortly before there was a knock at the door. Hermione's father moved like a flash of lightning to answer it, peering down at the person that was standing on the doorstep, "Can I help you young man?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as her father tried in vain to unnerve Harry. "Perhaps you can sir. May I presume to be speaking with Dr. Granger, father of Miss Hermione Granger. I am Harry Potter, and I am here to escort her to the Yuletide Celebration that I am sure she's mentioned at least once… every day since I sent her the invitation."

Hermione flushed, even as her father laughed aloud, "Hermione, it seems that this one has your tendencies down pat… Please come in, let us talk for a few if you have the time," he added to Harry, and Hermione resisted the urge to go over and drag Harry back out of the house the moment he came into sight.

Her mother was giving the boy slightly odd looks, but that may have been more about the elegant acromantula silk robes that he was wearing, complete with emblems of the Potter house and other obviously wizarding things hanging from various belts and sashes that were all wrapped together into a rather tasteful display. Or else it could be the unusual look of awe and wonder that the boy was giving the appliances and other devices that were not part of the wizarding world, although it seemed even more extreme with Harry, as though he had never seen things like the telephone in Hermione's mother's hand, or the live news cast that was playing in the background.

"Well, he certainly is a handsome boy," Hermione's mother said, as she hung up the phone, much to Hermione's embarrassment.

"Thank you, milady…" Harry replied, rather formally from what Hermione knew, sweeping a light bow of respect before checking an elaborate pocket watch. "We have a few minutes before we must leave, so if you have any pressing questions, I will try my best to answer them…"

"How do you plan to bring Hermione back after your little party?" Hermione's father piped up at once, "And how late will you be keeping her?"

"I am not certain of how late the festivities will be running, as I am currently living at the manor where it is being hosted, but I can assure you I will have her home no later than midnight, and we shall arrive as I have, via Portkey, which will deposit us right outside on the sidewalk." Harry responded immediately, without even a thought of the implications of his words.

Hermione was bright crimson at the looks both her parents were giving the boy. "I believe it's about time for us to go, isn't that right Harry?" she spoke up quickly, jumping to her feet and taking Harry by the wrist.

"Be safe, and don't overeat on any sweets, you know what they'll do to you?" her mother called as Hermione dragged the boy out the front door, and down the street. She didn't stop either until they were well past the corner, and out of sight of both the street and nearby houses.

"I think this will do," Harry said, pulling them to a stop in the darkened alleyway and pulling the small medallion with another Pureblood symbol upon it. Hermione, recognizing the portkey, quickly placed her own hand upon it as the blue glow started to shine, before they were lifted off the ground in a rush of wind and color.

It felt like several moments, but soon enough they handed heavily upon gravel and flagstones set into wide sloping grounds around a rather majestic Manor house. Even as she looked around, Hermione could sense the thrumming magic far beneath that indicated that ley lines were present here, powering wards and reaching out to the magi to give them strength, should they desire it.

There were plenty of people maneuvering about the rather temperate gardens, and the doors around the side of the manor were thrown open, giving a view of the spacious ballroom inside. "Impressed, Granger?" said the cool, if not somewhat condescending voice of Draco Malfoy from just behind Hermione.

She turned, not even giving the comment her notice as she curtsied to the son of the host, "I thank you for allowing me the honor of an invitation, heir Malfoy, even if you choose to be discourteous about it…" she said silkily, smiling as the boy performed a double take at the sight of her face.

While still very much recognizable, she had started using a combination of Arcane magic and the collection of her mother's hair care products to tame her wild mane into a more presentable cascade that flowed with the cool breeze, obviously accomplished by magic this far north, but the effect was nonetheless pleasing.

"I…uh…" Draco swallowed, seeming to regain his composure, "You look quite lovely, Miss Granger…"

"Why thank you, Draco…" she replied, taking the boy's arm to be escorted inside, Harry smirking as he followed in their wake.

Despite her improved appearance, in her own opinion, and being on the arm of the son of the host, Hermione was still the focus point of a great deal of the more staunchly bigoted purebloods in the crowd. It didn't take much to be able to overhear their angered mutterings. "So Draco," she murmured quietly, to not be overheard, "what is the likelihood of some fool getting a little too high spirited and trying to… what would be the phrase, foist out the Mudblood from this regal gathering?"

Draco winced slightly, as though she had elbowed him in the solar plexus, but otherwise did not react, "Do you want the truth or a placation…" he responded, which told Hermione all she needed to know.

"Extremely high then, the longer I remain here…" she concluded aloud.

"It will be upon mine and my father's duty to protect you from such a vindictive response, and I do not doubt that Harry will do anything within his power to forestall any such problem." The boy said, attempting to reassure her.

"No offense to the chivalry of the subject," Hermione replied, "But I am more than capable of defending myself if the need arises, not that I will prevent you from gallantly coming to my aid if the situation warrants such a thing, but do not for one instant underestimate me, nor my power in the arts of the Arcane…" Hermione could guess that the boy had sent several spies to scout out her group and their meetings, so she had absolutely no problems discussing it with the boy present.

It was even likely that he had his own group of magi in Slytherin, being assisted by Harry as well as Hermione's, but to what end she wondered?

"I never doubted that for a moment." Draco said, confirming her heavy suspicions. "I do indeed pity the fool who would willingly stand against you for any reason…"

As if on cue, when they entered the ballroom, such an attempt took place. An older gentleman, face red from the alcohol he had been consuming, swaggered toward them, muttering incoherently about Malfoys and Mudbloods. Hermione did nothing until she saw the pompous old bigot drawing a wand in her presence.

Pushing Draco to the side, she drew herself up and called upon the magic of the Arcane that lay dormant in the manor around her. She knew that people could visibly see the lines of arcing energy as they pulsated around her, as the crowd leapt away from her in surprise. Brandishing a hand at the advancing man, Hermione envisioned what she wanted, and with a most humorous plumb of smoke and a small pop, the man vanished, only to be replaced with a harmless…

"Sheep?" someone in the crowd said aloud, before they all started murmuring about what they had seen Hermione do. She was well aware of what they might have thought she had done. Wandless human transfiguration was supposed to be incredibly difficult, well above N.E.W.T. standards, and she had done it not only instantly, but effortlessly as well.

It was little to be said that no one else dared to challenge her after that. Draco reappeared, after seeing to the man turned sheep, who Hermione assured would turn back to normal within an hour or two, and it would be best to just put him out to pasture in the wide lawns for the time being.

Harry reappeared as well, beaming at her controlled and quite effective response to the threat. Hermione smiled along with the two boys, and accepted the Butterbeer in a Champaign glass that was offered to her by a passing waiter. This would be quite the party, it seemed, and who better to spend it with than her best friend, and her future rival as well.

A quite interesting way to usher in a new age of magic it may be, along with the New Year, but Hermione was content for now.


	23. C22: Results

**Thanks to those who reviewed, and also those who voted. The new version of 'A New Player,' rightfully called Harry Potter and the Age of Magic, had its prologue now uploaded, and will be updated every so often as I get around to editing the chapters. I expect a minimum of twice a month for that story, but it will not be on a set day or time like the others. Enjoy the new chapter, and thanks again. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Two**

 **Results**

Albus refused to allow himself to be idle the moment the students had left the school, but diligently searched the sites of both mysterious attacks, looking for any other clues that had been overlooked previously, but sadly there was just not enough for him to follow up on for any sort of concrete hypothesis. He still strongly suspected some plot of Voldemort's doing, which was why he had allowed Harry such a close interaction to the investigation, as it gave ample opportunity for the dark wizard to slip up and prematurely reveal himself in an effort to eliminate his prophesized rival.

Whether it was still too early, or Voldemort had grown wise after the battle over the stone, he had not so much as stirred outside of the two attacks, and that also worried Albus. Voldemort was never that keen on patience unless it was absolutely necessary, and thus for him to show such restraint now meant that something indeed devious was in the works of that twisted mind.

Soon the holiday would be over however, and the vast majority of the students would be returning to the castle, including Harry, and Albus was greatly concerned for their overall safety if these attacks persisted.

During one of his many excursions through the castle searching for clues, Albus stumbled upon something that turned the entire investigation on its head. Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor House Ghost, was floating morbidly in an unused classroom, no longer pearly white but more blackened, and completely rigid as the other victims of the mysterious attacks. How the ghost had not been noticed as missing Albus had no idea, but it didn't seem like any sort of recent attack, from the utter lack of any magical residue in the room.

Discreetly, he summoned Poppy to manage removal of the ghost to the Hospital wing, to wait with the other victims for treatment when the Mandrakes were ready, meanwhile Albus started a new tactic, scouring the area with Arcane Magic to see if there was indeed anything that he could detect. He was not terribly skilled in the magic according to his own standards, and he hoped to be able to convince Harry to use everything that the brilliant boy had to help solve this mystery, but Albus was able to use the magic of the castle to sense that there was indeed something that had been in the room, something large and vicious that had attacked the ghost in some manner. Worse still was the very faint magical signature of the creature was still in the castle somewhere, but Albus lacked the skill to pinpoint exactly where its lair was located.

Idly he wondered if he could even persuade Harry to use his as of yet unseen dark version of the Arcane to locate the creature. Albus normally wouldn't have approved this, but the threat to his entire staff and students was rapidly growing too great. If this thing was able to petrify even a ghost, then what was the limit of its power and ability to cause harm?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was very pleased with the results of the Malfoy Yule gathering, especially the public unveiling of Hermione, the Muggleborn genius, as some were starting to refer to her. There had been a very small article in the following day's paper covering the affair, and the temporary transfiguration of one of the more bigoted members of the Wizengamot, who was fuming, but unable to retaliate to a thirteen year old girl, regardless of whatever humiliation she had put him through.

Hermione was currently oblivious to the publicity that she had generated, but Nobu'tan was well aware that once they returned to Hogwarts that would change, and she would have many more flocking to her to learn the magic of the Arcane, which suited his purposes just fine.

After the festival had been dispersed, the warlock had filled his time with intense study over runes and the orcish script, wanting nothing more than to be able to craft portals of a small sort before returning to the school, and he was extremely pleased to believe that he had mastered the secret, with assistance unknowingly from Narcissa Malfoy, who had taken quite an interest in his desire to learn about runes and their application.

Now, in the warded dueling room of the manor, shielded away from those other warlocks from the former Death Eater cult in case something went awry, along with Draco and Theodore, Nobu'tan was about to make the first attempt at conjuring a temporary portal to another location on the planet. He wouldn't dare attempt to summon the Legion with this method, as the gateway would be far too small and underpowered to handle even a moderately sized demon before collapsing, let alone the high leaders of the Legion.

Pulling out a pair of carved runes, which bore the symbols of transportation and magic in the orcish script, Nobu'tan set the palm sized stones on the ground evenly spaced from himself and each other, before opening himself up to the magic of the Arcane, and indeed the Nether, simultaneously.

Both rune stones flared to life in an instant, fel green and void purples radiating off of them as Nobu'tan moved his arms in the gestures of rituals that Gul'dan had painstakingly made him memorize. Energy crackled between the stones once, twice, and a third time, before a rift started to appear, shooting upward until it was twice the height of a man.

Illusionary hands appeared at six points along the rectangular portals, each grasping an edge of the tear in reality and literally pulling it wider, showing the darkness of the void well beyond. Air seemed to momentarily be sucked into the void, before a vision of his destination appeared on the other side, a darkened side street of the infamous Knockturn Alley, a spot that he had been shown by Lucius for this very test.

Still maintaining his spell, Nobu'tan beckoned for one of the other warlocks to approach, and investigate the functionality of the gateway. The man, Crabbe Sr. if he recalled correctly, was able to step through and back with no issues, and Nobu'tan smiled at the successful creation of the first portal on earth.

Releasing his incantations and stopping his gestures, together they waited and watched for how long the portal would remain open on its own, harvesting magic from the void in small trickles from the gap in reality that it produced. It wasn't longer than a quarter minute, but it was progress.

Once the gateway shut itself, Nobu'tan turned to view the rest of his gathered Shadow Council. "It has begun," he said simply, letting each understand now why he needed the artifacts that the Dreadlord of the Legion had shown him.

The others were sufficiently impressed with his ability, and Nobu'tan wasn't surprised when Lucius was the first to step forward and congratulate him. "I believe I understand the pressing need for your artifacts now, seeing how powerful and efficient these portals will be."

"What obstacles still bar our way to the Grimoire of Merlin?" Nobu'tan asked casually, giving the other former Death Eaters something to think about at the level of artifact that they sought.

"Much still," Lucius said, annoyance at the thought returning, "The Unspeakables still deny any claim that they possess the tome, yet I know for a fact through other sources that it is indeed there, locked away where none are supposed to be able to get at it."

"And how long do you expect it to take for you to worm you way to seeing the book first hand?" the young warlock countered, knowing that the answer would not be to his liking.

"Probably months, at the very least, after many a political battle to make them admit that they have it." Lucius admitted.

"That is time that we do not have to waste over the first of several artifacts that we need. At the earliest convenience, you will bring me to this Department of Mysteries, and I will break them open and take what we need from them, and there will be none to stop my power." Nobu'tan demanded, turning away as Lucius shuddered before his anger as fel magic flared slightly in response.

"And any news regarding the others?" he asked blatantly, watching the others of his servants for reaction. "None yet," Lucius responded, "The Diadem was lost, and none know where to find it, and the Elder Wand is all but a myth. I have several investigators discreetly seeking the Torque, but it would be some time before they track down a clue to its possible whereabouts. Personally I would doubt the possibility of finding any of these objects if you were not commanding to find them, which means that it is indeed possible."

"But never simple…" Nobu'tan agreed, speaking to the unsaid statement that Lucius was keeping from his fellows.

"As you say, Lord Nobu'tan…" Lucius replied, making the others shift slightly with the usage of the clearly foreign name to their tongues.

Addressing them all, Nobu'tan began slowly, explaining in modest detail his 'vision' of the Dreadlord Mephistroth, and their quest to find and unite the four artifacts from the various points of the world where they may or may not be hidden. "I want you all, my Shadow Council, to seek out these items far and wide, as quietly as you can, through whatever means you have available. We need to find them as quickly as possible, and our heart's greatest desires will be granted by these beautiful sources of our great power…"

"What of Dumbledore, and the Dark Lord, not to mention all others who may stand in our way?" Yaxley asked intelligently, and Nobu'tan looked the tall and somewhat imposing man in the eye as he responded. "They will die if they stand in my way."

A flick of his wand revealed that the time was growing late, and casually Nobu'tan dismissed his servants, knowing that he must return to the prison of Hogwarts the next day, and to the watchful eye of the Headmaster and his minion, Snape.

But there was a use for this as well. Not only was the man consumed with his little problem in the castle, but having Nobu'tan underfoot would blind him to the movement of all others, both within and without the castle, which would push his many schemes forward unhindered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco wasn't sure what had changed in Harry, or Nobu'tan as his father had called him, over the Yule holiday, but the boy seemed to have grown somewhat icier in general, as though he was deeply consumed by his need for these artifacts that the demon had commanded him to gather.

Draco knew that they were important, extremely so if they were being told about them in detail, but the other boy seemed to believe that it was a life or death situation that they find these as quickly as possible.

Nevertheless, he was excluded by default from that particular part of their quest, and Lord Nobu'tan had told him specifically to continue teaching those in Slytherin, and any who would follow them the ways of the warlock, to counterpoise Granger and her Arcane users. Ever since the debacle at the festival, Granger was the talk of all his acquaintances, and even as they boarded the train to return to the school, they found it abuzz with people mentioning her ability to instantly transfigure a full grown wizard into a humorous sheep.

Granted it was obvious that very few knew exactly what she had done, but it was only the more impressive when one knew the truth, and Draco was sure that the girl would have multitudes flocking after her to learn this magic once word got out that she had used some ability other than Transfiguration.

It would be interesting, however, to find out how the professors reacted to this. Not that Draco expected her to be punished, as she had been well within her rights as a guest of House Malfoy to defend herself, and use magic within another wizards home, but the academic implications of the revealing of the Arcane was something that could start a wildfire of fame for the girl not only in Britain, but across the globe.

The glint in Harry's eyes when it was mentioned however seemed to indicate that the boy had a plan for all this media publicity, and Draco couldn't help but shudder at the thought of such a creature being against him, even though he knew that he was allied with the same at this present moment.

The train made its way across the British countryside without too much event, all the student's focus being on Granger over Draco or Harry themselves, and while the Slytherin group of warlocks in training did nothing to prevent others from having access to Harry, none came to call either.

"Barring any great misfortune," Harry said abruptly to the group as a whole, catching all of their attention and even making those who were engaged in other activities freeze in their tracks, "We will be heading out into the forest within the first week back. I doubt that Dumbledore will have the time to track me as well as manage the extreme amount of attention that Miss Granger has acquired, and what it will mean with the entire Chamber problem, at the same time, so that will give us the cover we need."

Their leader smirked, "I tell you now, it won't be easy, and I expect you all to get hurt at one point or another, but survive and you will be far stronger for it in the end."

Shortly afterward, the train started to slow as it entered the station, and the thunderous sound of the many children leaving the compartments for the cramped corridor could be head. The warlocks waited patiently for the train to clear before leaving, wanting to put some distance from themselves and the rest of the school. It worked out that they were able to claim two of the rearmost carriages for themselves as well, and Draco, along with Theodore, piled in with Nobu'tan, completely silent as they bounced and shook their way up to the castle grounds.

Draco studied Harry's face, still wondering where in the twelve year old boy was hiding that cold blooded person that had imposed his will over even Lucius, and his eyes widened when they entered the ward line of the castle. Harry visibly stiffened, his eyes growing narrow, and a glint of red wove its way into the green of his eyes, before vanishing again.

Harry had never hinted that there were physical changes that went along with the power of the warlock, but then again, Draco wouldn't care too much so long as they were huge deformities. Pureblood though he may be, there were lines of what was an acceptable change, and honestly magic could shroud almost anything through with illusions or potions, so it wouldn't be that big of a problem.

Still, it proved without a doubt that beneath the surface, the relatively innocent face of Harry Potter dwelled a being that was far more blood thirsty than one would expect. Lucius had always mentioned the man's red eyes, whenever Draco wound up the courage to ask about the Dark Lord, the infestation of the eyes being a paramount sign of one's heavy use of dark magic.

It was true then, that the magic of the demons was dark in nature, not that Draco had any reasons to doubt, but some things were good to confirm rather than take at face value. It meant that Draco had to be extra careful to not be caught when practicing, as there was a strict no tolerance policy for Dark Magic at Hogwarts. Perhaps if, like his father had wanted, he had gone to Durmstrang, then it wouldn't be a problem if he was found out using this demonic magic, but then he wouldn't have met Lord Nobu'tan, and that would defeat the purpose altogether.

Something that seemed off however, and perhaps the reason for the warlock's agitation, was the heavier amount of magic that was in the air, and not just wizard magic. The Arcane was alive and active in the castle, and according to what Harry had mentioned briefly before, that meant it could only be Dumbledore himself.

What the old man was doing however was anyone's guess, but if it agitated Harry, then it couldn't be very good. Theodore noticed as they exited the carriages a few moments later, especially when there were four Professors waiting at the entrance, watching the students enter. "They've stepped up security; do you think it's because of the Chamber?"

"There may have been another attack over the break…" Draco suggested, but Harry looked thoughtful.

"What is the Headmaster thinking he can do, saturating the school with Arcane Magic? I mean, firstly it shows that he is actually far more powerful than I expected, which is problematic, but still. Does he honestly think that…?" Harry broke off as they entered the school to find the Headmaster himself there in the Entrance Hall, and not waiting in the Great Hall.

"Ah Harry, just the one I was waiting for, would you mind lending me some of your time before the feast begins, I promise it won't take too long."

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry replied, his attitude changing from night to day.

Draco just watched the pair as they disappeared up the staircase to the rest of the castle proper. "What do you think?" he asked absently as the rest of the Slytherin warlocks appeared.

"No idea, but I doubt that Dumbledore would try anything so soon after the students return to school. It's not like Harry actually did anything, right?" Blaise said casually, starting to follow Crabbe and Goyle into the Great Hall, where the aromas of the feast were already wafting out into the entrance hall.

"He didn't, as far as I know," Draco said, "then again, who knows what's going on in that head of his from moment to moment…"

"Ravenclaws…" Theodore said, and the others chuckled slightly, before tugging Draco by the arm and guiding him to the Slytherin table. He allowed it, knowing that there was little point in worrying over Harry. Not only could the boy more than handle himself, but Draco and the other Slytherins had to make sure that they kept a low profile, which included a less than companionship with the other boy, to deflect attention from their conjoined actions.

With that in mind, Draco tentatively start to partake of the feast, however he still felt drawn away from his focus by all the ambient magic in the air, which was a thing so strange from the Hogwarts he had left before the break that it was somewhat off putting. Glancing around however, it seemed only those who had touched the arcane or fel magic was even aware of the changes, which was concerning enough as it was. Was Dumbledore trying to flush out all those who were connected with Harry at once? He certainly hoped that was not the case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus wasted no time in pulling Harry aside to the room where he had stumbled across the petrified form of Nearly Headless Nick. "I apologize for the abruptness of my request for your presence, but I felt it would be the best opportunity for you to examine this place before the rest of the children diffuse through the castle and interfere with the intense amount of magic that I placed over the castle to monitor if the creature went on the move again."

Harry nodded, before taking a long, slow walk around the room, making some gestures while his eyes flashed the purple white of the Arcane. "I don't see anything specific, but it is definitely the same sort of attack as the previous ones before the break."

"Harry…" Albus said, but the boy was carefully studying the place just below where Nick had been.

"I believe the intense aura was here, but I cannot be sure…" the boy continued.

"Harry…" Albus said again, and the young wizard turned to look at him, confused.

"Use you other abilities, rather than just the magic of the Arcane," Albus said seriously, watching as Harry paused, taking his time to fully digest what he was being asked.

"I…" the boy said, trying to start denying that he had such magic.

"It is quite obvious that you possess some dark variant of the Arcane, which might possibly be of use to investigating the other dark activity that is threatening the school. Normally I would never permit such a method, but it is growing dire, as the victim of this particular attack was one of our resident ghosts. We must figure out the culprit of these attacks as quickly as possible, and to this end I am permitting you to use the full employ of your abilities, this one time, to solve this mystery."

Harry didn't seem to be convinced of Albus' sincerity, but he was considering it. "You must understand my hesitancy, but I will do what I can; only you would be less than safe if you remain in the same room as me while I utilize these powers."

Albus was not overly willing to allow Harry to perform this magic unsupervised, but they were in a hurry to solve this case, and the boy was probably going to refuse to do anything if Albus didn't give him an olive branch of trust first.

"Very well Harry, but I will be just outside until you are finished with trying to determine whatever you can regarding this attack."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan refused to move until Albus shut the door behind him. The obviousness of the trap was ridicules. There was zero chance that he would do any fel magic in front of the Headmaster at this point, but the man did seem to be growing desperate to discover the cause of these attacks on the school. The door received a very powerful ward to keep the level of dark magic suppressed, just in case the old man was still trying to determine how powerful in dark magic Nobu'tan truly was. Instantly calling Khiighun to him, the orc-raised human allowed the Felhunter to meander the room, especially the area that the ghost was attacked.

Meanwhile, he himself removed the metal wand that he had carried with him from Azeroth. It had been curious that the wands of this planet were highly inefficient in channeling the Arcane or Fel magic, but the one from Azeroth worked just find for this, allowing him to start drawing fiery green runes in orcish script that were descriptive of sight and understanding. His knowledge of runic magic and the power may have still been basic, but he did know enough that intent was the most important in creating a functional array.

Still, jotting out the rough ideas of what she wanted in a circle around him, Nobu'tan turned as the Felhunter approached; extending its feelers that had been siphoning the raw magic from the scene. Using his demon granted powers, he condensed the magic into a crystal shard, allowing him to examine it at his leisure. That would be enough to keep Dumbledore happy, but Nobu'tan was curious as to this madness himself, so he would indeed use a wider array of his abilities to investigate.

Banishing the Felhunter so that it wasn't discovered or got in the way, Nobu'tan started weaving Fel magic, lifting himself off the ground as he invoked the powers of his runic lines in combination of the magic captured in the crystal shard to try and see what had occurred here.

Before Nobu'tan, the air started to shimmer as a shaded vision formed before him, which replayed the events of the attack, with the ghost sliding through the far wall on its way toward some destination unknown. But instead of proceeding, the ghost stopped, before there was a golden flash of light and the spirit froze where it was, before blackening as though burned.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the magic was from the creature of whatever sort, and therefore the vision was from its perspective. There was a feel to the vision however, more of a taste really, as though the creature could naturally sense the air around it, but whether through normal senses or by magic was undetermined.

It was irritating, but still, as he settled down and banished the excess fel magic, scuffing the orcish script away so that it dissipated completely, he turned to admit Dumbledore to the room again.

"Finished already?" he asked congenially, looking around, and Nobu'tan could tell that the man was casually examining the room again for any trace of his fel magic. To distract him however, the orc raised warlock raised the crystal in his hand, "I was able to procure this, the condensed and crystallized magic from whatever was the attacker."

Dumbledore looked impressed, and took the crystal gingerly, examining it from several angles. "This may help immensely to try and give a lead on this, however, I do believe that I've kept you long enough, and it's some ways through the feast, and I do have some new announcements to make."

Nobu'tan nodded, following the Headmaster as they returned to the Great Hall. While all attention did turn to the pair of them as they entered, Nobu'tan just shuffled quickly to his seat at the Ravenclaw Table, and the Headmaster continued up the Great Hall to the head table, taking most of the attention with him. Those who remained watching Nobu'tan were already known to him, and would just have to wait if they wanted any answers about his time with Dumbledore.

Otherwise, the old man was announcing the changes for the returning term, including the increase of security as well as their _hope_ that the students will comply with all the necessary changes for their safety.

The feast was already almost over, so Nobu'tan took some food quickly before it all vanished so that he had something inside him for that evening, and departed with the rest of his house. The others would be patient and wait for the right time to approach him without others overhearing or watching.

Nobu'tan took his time preparing to retire for the evening, allowing the others in his dormitory to drift off to sleep long before him. he had a great many things to prepare, and Headmaster Dumbledore had no idea what he had unleashed in his school by flat out asking Nobu'tan to use the power of Fel magic in his school.

That, combined with his newfound ability with portal magic, gave a strong desire that Nobu'tan couldn't simply ignore. He was free to come and go as he pleased from place to place, so long as the magic of the school couldn't interfere with the arcane might of his portals, and when better to make the first attempt to come and go from the school at his whim.

Throwing another robe over his night clothes, Nobu'tan snuck into the boy's bathroom and after making sure he was alone, closed and locked the door before withdrawing the metal wand from a pocket inside the robe. The runes were easier to sketch now that he had done it multiple times in practice at Malfoy Manor, and soon enough the soft crackle of magic sounded as the doorway was literally pulled open by conjured shadowy hands.

The same alleyway in Knockturn reappeared, but this time Nobu'tan crossed through without a pause, smiling widely as he watched the portal from the school gently close behind him. He was out and free, and technically he could just vanish into the night if he so desired. Unfortunately, he needed his newfound allies if he was to accomplish his primary goal of returning to Azeroth, and that could only be easily accomplished through Lucius' contacts, and that required him to remain nearby.

But still, he had the ability to vanish from the school whenever he liked, and therefore he was able to take on multiple goals at once rather than plotting from the school for the various vacations.

Grinning madly, he made the same gestures and opened a new portal, sliding through the Nether to Malfoy Manor to inform his ally of his discovery, and the new availability that it granted him when necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was studying late into the night in his private office, making sure that he had every scrap of information regarding the Department of Mysteries and their policies memorized for the future, when a gust of wind kicked up, pulling some of the warmth from the fire right off Lucius' skin as a tear opened up in the fabric of space. If he wasn't already somewhat aware of who could cause such a disturbance, Lucius might have been worried, but instead he merely nodded as Nobu'tan stepped through the gateway, smirking from ear to ear like his son when Narcissa bought his first broomstick.

"I gather that the wards of Hogwarts are no match for your portal magic, then," Lucius said astutely, and the young warlock nodded.

"This will facilitate our ability to keep up with your training, among other important things, while I maintain the perfect alibi of being locked away in Hogwarts." Nobu'tan said, to which Lucius agreed.

"Just be careful not to overuse the ability," he warned, "Albus may not know about it now, but the man is overly sharp and will come to the logical conclusion if given enough evidence."

"Much like the Chamber of Secrets issue and whatever creature is attacking the students there…" Nobu'tan said, which caught Lucius' attention.

"I don't quite follow what you're talking about, my Lord…" he asked guardedly, and suddenly the warlock's eyes flashed with menacing excitement.

"Ah, Dumbledore you clever fool…" he said abruptly, "Let me guess, the man has failed to mention the several attacks that have occurred at the school thus far, including the petrifaction of a ghost, a student and a cat…"

"No, not a word has been mentioned to the Governors," Lucius affirmed, but he could see the reasoning why, as Lucius would naturally use this opportunity to remove Albus from the school. The only question he had was whether the diary he had dropped upon the Weasley girl was the cause of this.

"Still, this opportunity, along with my freedom of movement can both aid us in attacking the Department of Mysteries. It's not like I could possibly go somewhere I do not know about when I'm at school now can I."

"No, I can't presume that Albus will be in any position to blame you if a certain unknown artifact goes missing in the near future from the vaults of the Department…" Lucius said, smirking himself now. The level of planning and scheming he had to do just magnified, but it would be worth it to see this through.

In response, Nobu'tan only smiled widely, before turning back to the empty space in the office, "I'll be in touch then, Lucius…" he said, before casually tearing open another portal in the void and stepping through. Lucius caught a glimpse of a Hogwarts bathroom before the gateway shut itself completely.

With that, and the revelation that they be infiltrating the Department of Mysteries far sooner than he had expected, Lucius incinerated the parchment he was working on. The plans to coax out the location and particulars about the Grimoire were pointless if they were just going to steal it anyway now. Instead, he started mapping out the layout of the Department as he knew it, and speculating the best places that the Unspeakables would have hidden the more 'forbidden' items and texts.

While he may not fully trust the Legion, or the madness that they sought to bring upon the world, perhaps Merlin's tome would have some clues as to how they may protect themselves from being betrayed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione awoke the next somewhat refreshed, but at the same time rather bothered by the events of the previous night, and thoughts of what she would have to endure today. Apparently her simple act of polymorphing the drunken fool of a Pureblood had been circulated throughout not only the school but the entire wizarding world. She was now being heralded as some sort of magical prodigy, as it seemed that knowledge of the Arcane had not yet been distributed outside of those select few that were learning the art, as well as the Headmaster now thanks to Harry.

Still, there were a great deal of more students wanting to know her secret, of how she had mastered transfiguration to the point of silent casting and full human transformation, and no one wanted to hear that it wasn't transfiguration as they knew it.

Although, inevitably, there were those few, primarily Ravenclaws, that figured out that it was impossible for Hermione, brilliant though she was, to have done what was reported through wizard magic alone, and came to her, primarily in ones and twos, and at various times throughout the train ride up to the school, as well as even a few brave enough to get up and walk about during the feast.

Hermione did catch sight of Harry when he entered with Professor Dumbledore halfway into the returning feast, but she had not had opportunity to approach with all the people focusing on her. Many of these people had also gone to the rather infamous Dueling Club that Professor Lockhart had attempted to start before the break, but it had failed miserably after just one meeting, leaving all those who wanted to learn to defend themselves with no one to turn to.

Hermione supposed that if she tested them accordingly, she may be able to take the more trustworthy to learn to be Mages. The Arcane was a rather combative style of magic, and was something of a comfort to know that she had something to fall back on for her protection.

Unfortunately, throughout the morning of the first day back, Hermione was prevented from speaking to much of anyone between the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that would approach her for this or that reason, and she started to just direct them to meet with her and some others on the seventh floor that weekend, where she would eventually wheedle out who was trustworthy enough to teach regarding the arcane.

Harry was about, but the boy always wore a deep smirk when he spotted her, surrounded by those clamoring for her attention. It was rather frustrating, but she knew it wasn't his fault. The boy hadn't forced her to act in her own defense, and at least with her knowledge of how the Hogwarts rumor mill worked, everything would die down by the weekend, and she would be able to find him and finally ask for more particulars regarding the Arcane.

So it was with a sigh that she gave up the attempts to meet with Harry around lunch of the first day, and attempted to actually enjoy being a positive center of attention among the student body for a change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was quite enjoying the view of Miss Granger's rather annoying predicament, she being the sole focus of the school rather than him for a change, as it allowed him a level of anonymity that was as of yet unprecedented since he arrived back in this world. Even better than that, he was able to move about unobserved even by some of the staff, which was put to use in investigating the old attack sites of the previous victims of the unknown creature.

He had already investigated the area where the young Gryffindor first year had been attacked, and found nothing new, but did acquire another shard of magic crystal to go with the first that he gave Dumbledore, this time for himself to hang on to. He was just about to arrive outside the second floor girl's bathroom and investigate where the cat was attacked, when he heard the angry wheeze of the school caretaker, moments before the man angrily brushed past him, muttering to himself about muck and filth and his hatred of the school poltergeist, which was promptly ignored by the young warlock as he continued to the area of the red letters written on the wall, which still shone brightly despite the cantankerous old man's attempted to clean them off.

There was a familiar level of water on the floor again, and Nobu'tan decided to hold off performing fel magic in a public corridor where anyone could wander in on him, and investigate Moaning Myrtle, the school ghost that haunted that particular bathroom.

Upon entered the bathroom, the sound of the ghost's weeping was immediately apparent, as well as the source of the water, as all the taps had been turned at once, causing quite the flood to begin all over the room. A couple of wand waves later, and the flooding had stopped, leaving the floor sopping wet but eventually would dry out, and what looked like some sort of small black book lying innocently on the floor.

What was strange, however, was that, while the floor it was laying on was soaked through, the book itself was as dry as charred wood after a fire. Curious, Nobu'tan stooped to pick up the small book, when he felt a powerful and intensely dark magical aura pouring off the book, like tendrils of magic trying to coax the young warlock toward it. It was also a drastically familiar bit of magic, quite like that he had place into his crystals for study, retrieved from the previous sites of the attacks.

So either the attacker had this book in their possession, or this little innocent looking book was indeed related heavily to the unknown creature that had attacked the cat, ghost, and student. Now aware of the book's true nature, Nobu'tan had no qualms about seizing the little book and hefting it with ease. Casually rolling it over in his hand, the orc raised human read the name inscribed in gold upon the spine. ' _T. M. Riddle_ ,' it was a curious name, not one that Nobu'tan was aware of, but he wanted desperately to study this book and how it was related to the attacks. Flipping it open, he frowned as he uncovered that every page was blank.

"Interesting," he said aloud, before pocketing the book and turning to leave without bothering to continue his investigation of the site. He had acquired something of far greater worth toward solving this mystery, an actual clue that he intended to force into helping him. It was nearly the weekend, so he would soon have time enough for it, so until then he merely locked the little book away at the very bottom of his trunk, piled under everything else just in case someone went snooping through that which didn't belong to them. And he couldn't blame someone for trying, it's not like he hadn't done so already with every one of his dorm mates, finding them as boring and bookish as the stereotype claimed Ravenclaws to be.

Unfortunately, someone trying to sift through his possessions would be caught unaware by the fel curses that would take effect immediately, wracking the person in pure agony and blasting them well away. So far none had attempted, therefore none knew of that feature…

After bearing through another day and a half of classes, it was finally the weekend, and Nobu'tan happily went to the tower to recover the book, as well as several other items to go with his normal bout of inscription and alchemical activities. Thankfully, the others in his House just figured he was eccentrically studying, much like the rest of them, but more of a practical means rather than the book laden theory that they were primarily obsessed with, which suited him just fine.

Arriving in the dungeons, where he normally did all of his extracurricular activities, Nobu'tan quickly darted through the tunnels to an unused section far in the back, where no one commonly went, and secured himself in an old lockable classroom, before setting up his cauldron and inking sets, the vials and herbs that normally he would be using for his potions and elixirs, and waited for Professor Snape to arrive as per their usual arrangement. The man had shown genuine interest in the arts that Nobu'tan had taken from Azeroth, and even if he was secretly spying for Dumbledore, the man was an academic at heart, and truly appreciated the delicacy that Nobu'tan took in these activities first hand, so the warlock continued to allow the man to observe as he honed his skills. Meanwhile, he pulled out a runed copper rod, and several bags of magical residue, as well as the small book with Riddle's name on it. It was time to discover what exactly it was.


	24. C23: Book of Secrets

**Many thanks to those who continue to review. getting those messages throughout the week are a real boost to keep writing, it is a fact. Not only are the twin current projects going smoothly, but the rewrite of the now coined "Harry Potter and the Age of Magic," is moving along, somewhat slowly as I pace myself through the different challenge of looking over my old work with a more critical eye. In addition, I can feel the yearning to continue work on my side projects, which is always a good sign regarding the internal muse and its eagerness to produce. So, all in all, things are well, keep up the excellent comments and enjoy. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Three**

 **Book of Secrets**

Severus arrived at the back dungeon room at precisely a quarter after the end of breakfast, which he had been doing since the school year started, to meet with Mr. Potter and continue their conjoined Potions tutoring, as well as Severus studying the strange and quite different magical talents that the boy seemed to possess.

It was strange to think about, but there were things that the boy could do, because of his heightened levels of magic Severus suspected, that almost seemed to defy even the laws of magic. But at the same time, there seemed to be an order and rules to the different activities themselves, so Severus was unsure of what to think regarding them. The door in question unbolted instantly upon his knock, and the Potions Master entered, sealing the room once again to prevent their discovery, not that many would dare to follow him anywhere willingly.

The boy was already present, bending over a desk with a rod made of copper in his hand, the entire length of the small item covered in glowing runes as what looked like a scrap of muggle paper, not parchment, began to dissolve into dust before him.

This indeed was one of the strange concepts that the boy possessed, but it was similar enough that Severus had no problems identifying it as a rather raw and basic form of enchanting. The only strange part was, instead of using his own magic to power items, it seemed that Potter took magic from other items, converting it into dust or other strange components, and used those to create the same effects that trained wizards did for hire throughout their world.

The page in front of the book suddenly smoked and began pouring off a noxious odor as black, sludge-like particles started to fly off of it, and Potter leapt back as it did so, making sure not to breathe any in. "What on earth was that?" Severus demanded, walking over. He recognized the cloud of black smoke as the aftermath of a reactionary defense mechanism for some dark artifacts, and how the boy had managed to get a hold of one was beyond him.

"I'm not sure, something I picked up in the castle while assisting the investigation into the Chamber of Secrets attacks…" Potter replied, frowning at the massive burn mark on the desk, all which remained of his attempt.

"Well, be more careful, some items have powerful countercharms upon them to protect them from tampering, and I believe you 'disenchanting' then as you call it would count as attempting to destroy it, next time let the Headmaster handle any such investigation of clues, so they're not haphazardly left who knows where in the castle." Severus said sternly, but not harshly. He had come to realize through these meetings that Potter truly had very little idea about their world, despite growing up in a magical setting. Therefore leniency in some area was proper, especially common sense things that most wizards took for granted, but would have been well above what the boy was accustomed to.

"Yes, sir," the boy responded, putting away the copper rod and moving on, back to his cauldron that had a plethora of herbs waiting beside it and water boiling within.

"What sort of concoction are you preparing this time?" Severus asked, leaning over to look at the various herbs and items that the boy had brought.

"An Elixir that imitates the effects of trolls blood in whomever was to drink it, allowing their wounds to mend on their own in a flash…" was the boy's reply, which in and of itself was a baffling concept, but he had already seem some fairly astounding things that the boy claimed to create out of a cauldron, so he didn't question it, merely watched the Potter moved about quickly, gathering up measures of two fairly common herbs, although not ones that Severus ever thought would make any sort of potion together, especially without other components to work off of.

The boy haphazardly throw them in, one measure of the first to two measure of the other, and simply walked away while the plants stewed in the cauldron. "It's a fairly slow process, as the herbs need to render down in the boiling water before being stirred, so I can work on some more ink and writing while I wait." He explained to Severus, grabbing a handful of strong roots and proceeding to smash them in a pestle, almost pulverizing them in his haste to reduce the plants to their base materials.

Vials were summoned and placed in the window after being filled with the residue of the plants, waiting for the moon to rise that evening, but Potter withdrew a few vials of finished ink already, as well as a fresh quill that had never seen ink before.

Rolls of parchment also were brought forth from somewhere in the boy's robes, and Severus, drawn by curiosity, found himself stepping forward to read over the boy's should as he leaned over the parchment, quill dipping almost ritualistically in the silvery moonglow ink, before it literally flew over the parchment, the shimmering silver ink gleaming in the wake of the quill.

At first, Severus thought they were Gaelic runes that the boy was writing, but he could understand those, Ancient Runes having been highly useful for his Potions Mastery, but these were nearly illegibly to him as a form of writing, albeit similar in appearance. Once Potter finished however, the ink started to glow brilliant blue, before returning to its original state. The works of magic that this boy did were astounding, even in something as basic as writing, Severus wondered just what the scroll would do, or said, but the boy was not forthcoming about it, merely rolled the scroll closed and pocketed it and the quill.

"The Elixir should be ready for the next stage now," he announced, crossing back to the boiling cauldron, which was, quite to Severus' surprise, had turned a sickly green color, almost teal. The boy grabbed a stirring rod and started to swirl the potion several times quickly, before declaring it finished.

The entire concept baffled Severus to no end, and he highly doubted that it would work as intended. The doubt must have been clear on his face, as Potter glanced at him once, before grasping a silver knife and pricking his own finger, allowing blood to well up and drop to the floor to prove he was injured.

"Observe…" he said flatly, placing a single drop of the Elixir on his finger, and Severus blinked in surprise as the cut closed itself instantly, just as the mending charm that Madam Pomfrey was famous for.

Just shaking his head in disbelief at the magic that he had witnessed, not so much the effect but that the boy had accomplished it with so few ingredients, Severus glanced at the time, "It is well past the time we normally end our sessions, so until next week then, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, I'm all but finished for the moment; I will be placing this cauldron full in vials and departing momentarily. Dinner in the Great Hall as usual I presume?"

"Indeed, but you may want to hurry, as it's about to begin." Severus said neutrally.

"Yes, Sir," Potter responded, doing exactly as he said he would, summoning vials to gather up the potion, even as Severus departed out of the dungeon room. He wouldn't express it to the boy directly, but even Severus had to admit that he was impressed with the level of magical astuteness that the boy possessed. It was not mere Potion making that the boy was doing, but indeed full out Alchemy, the level of which he had never know before from what was described in books or handed down by word of mouth.

Normally, those that were deemed true Alchemists were something of hermits, only imparting their knowledge to those who would follow in their footsteps. Even Albus was not a full Alchemist, even though he studied and assisted the famed Nicholas Flamel for quite some time. Severus had asked only once, but Albus had brushed it off with his usual air of senility, and a casual, 'I wasn't quite in the perfect state for such work full-time.'

Something that even the great and brilliant Albus Dumbledore wasn't an expert at. It was quite a shock to find out. And to top all of that off, Potter was creating an all new concept of magic through his production of magical inks, more than simple novelties, but ink that was specifically designed to work with magic for effects that Severus had still yet to actually see.

While he would be reporting all of this to the Headmaster, naturally, he also would be making special recommendations for the boy's third year, even though he was not a Slytherin, he felt that even the founders would have come together to make sure that one so gifted would have all the advantages needed to succeed at his fingertips.

Severus just hoped that he was not making a big mistake, and the Dark Magic residue in the boy was more than just a benign reminder that the boy had had a strange and still quite mysterious past. Perhaps he needed to put more pressure on Albus to find out those details, once this fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets and its nonsense was finally done away with.

There were some things that shouldn't have been kept secret, even if they needed to use Veritaserum to get the answers at last from the boy. Severus made his decision, and instead of going to the Great Hall for food, changed course directly for Albus' office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan smirked as Snape finally left him alone in the dungeon classroom. The man had grown slightly complacent when it came to these little meetings, as Nobu'tan had established a pattern and stuck to it until this day, leaving immediately after the sallow man and going straight to the Great Hall for dinner.

But today was not to be that same plan.

The little black book had consumed Nobu'tan entire focus throughout since the moment it had dissolved the potion he had created to study it, transforming it into a noxious poison, and it was only a momentary carelessness on Snape's part that had prevented the man from paying closer attention and noticing the dark magic on it.

A windfall of luck for Nobu'tan, but he had made sure to not even come close to addressing it again until the man had left. Flicking his wand so that the vials would fill themselves and return to his potions kit, he removed the book from his robes, rolling it over in his hands once more in an attempt to find where he had torn a corner of a page to test, but… it was gone, as though the page had grown back.

It almost felt as though the book was alive sometimes, but this mysterious reappearing page seemed to confirm it for the young warlock. This book was indeed alive in some fashion, and he had a sinking suspicion that it was directly involved in these attacks. Flipping it open casually, he pulled out a regular bottle of ink and a quill, allowing a single drop to drip onto a page at random.

Like a dried sponge, the book absorbed the ink until there was nothing left. Just to be sure, Nobu'tan did this again thrice more, before committing to writing a short message into the pages of the book.

' _My name is Tobias Banu…_ ' he was not about to use either of his 'real,' names, and he doubted that any knowledge of the alias from Dalaran had ever been mentioned, so he would use this here and now.

Almost suprisingly, if not for the fact that Nobu'tan expected some sort of reaction, the ink vanished, soon to be replaced by another message, in response. ' _Hello Tobias Banu, my name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?_ '

Smirking at his luck of finding a book that responded so easily, Nobu'tan dipped his quill and wrote back, ' _someone tried to dispose of it in a bathroom, and I found it._ '

It took only moments for the next reply to appear, ' _Well, it's a good thing I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read._ '

The young orc-raised warlock could tell immediately the lure when it appeared, the unspoken tug towards asking what knowledge the book contained, to keep the conversation going, as well as the rising power of the tendrils of magic that surrounded the book as it was written in.

But for the answers he sought, Nobu'tan would play along as a foolish and impressionable student. ' _What do you mean?_ ' he wrote back.

' _I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things._ ' The book replied, almost smug with itself in that effect, ' _Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ '

Now the book was trying to subtly gain an awareness of where it was, but supplying a location of its supposed contents, but regardless Nobu'tan pressed on, allowing his hand to go faster to show false excitement. ' _That's where I am now! Horrible things have been happening at Hogwarts now as well. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?_ '

The response was almost laughably quick, and the handwriting sloppy enough to match his forced untidiness, but at the same time almost exactly as forced. One who studied the art of inscription could tell in a heartbeat, and Nobu'tan knew that whatever inhabited in the book was hoping to bait a hook for Tobias to continue writing and believe the mystery Tom in the book so badly.

' _Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend; that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippit, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned._ '

And thus the lie was revealed; as well as the direct desire of the book's report to the unwary reader. Nobu'tan could see the level of perspective that was imparted into the recounting, and knew he could hardly take any of this as the truth, even if some of the facts were basically true. Besides, did he not use the same methods to confuse and deflect others when he wanted to avoid talking about particular subjects, like Azeroth and Gul'dan?

Now he got serious with the book, flourishing the quill a bit in his response, ' _where was the dead girl found, if I may ask? I am part of a student group investigating the attacks we're having now, although no one has died yet, and any help would be appreciated._ '

Unsurprisingly, it took the book a bit longer to form a response, and while it matched the writing style of the previous messages, Nobu'tan could tell that the book was once again guarded and trying to figure him out again. ' _The girl was found somewhere on the second floor I think, but it matters little, when I know that I caught the culprit in my time, so there can only be so many options for who it is in yours. Let me show you what happened, and you'll understand what I mean._ '

Nobu'tan almost laughed at reading that message. It was clear that, as the book was so insistent that he _see_ Tom's side of things, that that should be the last thing he do. Carefully, he worded an appropriate response that should raise the unknown person's suspicions too high.

' _I'm not exactly in a private place right now, so I don't know if I'll be observed while that happens. Couldn't you just tell me so we have a name to investigate, if not anything else?_ '

The book seemed to wait a ridiculously long time to respond, and the young warlock liked to believe that it was silently fuming at being foiled because of its inability to see around itself.

' _Alright, but I insist that nothing I say will make perfect sense unless you let me show you exactly how it happened. But the culprit was a large boy by the name of Rubeus Hagrid, who had brought in the monster from outside the school, and whether he intended to or not, let it loose through the castle where it attacked people and killed the girl in a bathroom…_ '

And so there was the nutshell of Tom's perspective. Whether it was true or not, Nobu'tan didn't care, as he didn't believe a word of it, at least regarding the half giant. While the man appeared fierce and was indeed built like a small house, he was extremely kind and gentle, even to one who didn't want his company, like Nobu'tan. Only propriety had spared him having to endure more of the large man's company, as the man understood that they barely knew each other, and it would be inappropriate for him to attempt to reach out beyond the occasional letter, which he did about two to three times a month. Nobu'tan responded, if only to be polite, but through these he was aware that the man would rather die himself rather than endanger a single student at the school, even those from Slytherin, which he distrusted intensely.

So to believe that that man was the one responsible, even accidentally, for the attacks was laughable. It also proved that this Tom was either a complete moron, which was unlikely, or that Tom in fact was the culprit, and used Hagrid as a patsy for the sheep of the wizarding world to blame, which was more likely, while still rather improbable.

However there was little for Nobu'tan to go on, rather than the fact that Tom had let slip two things about the girl who had died. That it was on the second floor, and in a bathroom. Ironically there was a ghost that matched that description perfectly, and he had already had the privilege of meeting her.

Unfortunately, there was little time to head up and try to get an unobserved meeting with the ghost, so Nobu'tan wrote a quick note of thanks and departure to Tom in his little book, and stowed the thing away carefully with his supplies, leaving the rest out for the next time he came down here. He locked the door with magic on his way out, and proceeded up to dinner, nodding once in the direction of his Slytherin allies as he entered, and receiving calculated responses from the five other warlocks, who were probably still mentally preparing themselves for their upcoming trek into the forest to hunt creatures of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When nightfall of the chosen day came, Draco found himself only partially nervous regarding entered the Forbidden Forest blindly, with only his warlock abilities and whatever demon he summoned to protect him. Lord Nobu'tan had demanded that they all leave their wands behind, so that they were forced to use only their strength with fel magic to protect them in those trees, and it left those who were less adept at it more than a bit concerned.

Draco knew that he, Theodore and even Blaise would be more than safe, as they had all progressed to the point where they had summoned and bound Voidwalkers to their wills, but both Crabbe and Goyle had yet to achieve that, and only had control over their Imp minions to protect them.

It was still good that they would be more or less going about in a group, along with Nobu'tan, investigating the forest and slaying anything that proved too much of a challenge to go around or frighten away.

Sneaking out of the castle with five other people from the dungeons was a task, but they somehow managed it, meeting with the Ravenclaw in the midst of the greenhouses, well out of sight of the towers and windows thanks to the many covered areas strewn with plants blocking the view.

"Well, are we all ready?" the young warlock asked the five of them, and Draco nodded, despite a small stone settling in his stomach as he knew there would be no turning back now.

"Excellent, we shall proceed then, do not summon anything until we're well inside the forest and out of sight of the castle and its magic. Wouldn't want any of the mages to detect what we're up to now would we?"

Without another word, they were off, crossing stealthily over the grounds and skirting the line of trees nearest the gamekeeper's hut until they found a suitable crop of trees that would camouflage them as they summon their demons.

Crabbe and Goyle were the first done, bringing forth their imps with looks of disappointment on their faces. Draco, Theodore and Blaise reached through the void and drew the shimmering blue clouds of hatred to them, which condensed into their Voidwalkers. Finally, Nobu'tan brought forth his demon, and all five boys looked in shock as the scantily clad female demon stepped out of the portal, shaking herself and smirking at all of them lustily.

"Hmmm… you're in trouble now…" she said, smirking at all of their faces, before blowing a kiss at the one who had summoned her, who just frowned.

"Wh…what is that?" Blaise asked first, and somehow, Draco was not surprised that he was the first to react to a nearly naked, nearly human, female creature appearing in their midst.

"This is Sartai, if you're smart you'll not allow her looks to draw you in, a demon is still a demon regardless of the form it takes…" Nobu'tan said shortly, before returning his attention to the surrounding trees. "Let us proceed…" he announced, before leading the way into the thickest part.

The three Voidwalkers were sent in first, followed by Lord Nobu'tan and the Succubus, with the rest of the warlocks and the pair of imps trailing behind. Draco kept his eyes open as wide as possible; making absolutely certain that nothing was trying to maneuver around their group to attack from the sides or back of them. The forest was chillingly silent, and the hairs at the back of his neck were itching with how badly he did not want to be here, but still they pressed onward.

Occasionally Nobu'tan would summon a floating eye and send it ahead of their group, scouting around in all directions, but for a long while into the night they encountered nothing of note, the whole of the forest seemingly aware of their presence and instinctively shying well away of the fel magic.

That only lasted, however, until they neared the dark heart of the forest, where the group of warlocks discovered the forest growing steadily darker, and strands of thick silken webbing covering the trees disturbingly. Draco knew of only one creature that was large enough to do this, and it was one that he knew was not going to be pleasant for any of them to encounter.

Without warning, the Succubus whirled, the whip in her hand lashing out as a massive body leapt down in their midst. It was an Acromantula, the most vicious of all giant spider species, and the five Slytherins leapt back reflexively, even as Nobu'tan and the demons jumped toward the prospect of battle.

Unfortunately, Draco remembered from his personal studies of the animal part of the wizarding world that Acromantula never hunted alone, and their colonies numbered usually well into the hundreds, if not more, and so he instantly was alert, checking the treetops around them, and growing more worried with every set of eyes that glared down at them as many more spiders lowered themselves on threads of silk to try and surround the warlocks.

Instead of panicking, however, Draco took charge, directing the other four with him to aim their fel magic at those spiders that were closing in first, buying their demonic minions time to finish with the first attacker and come to their aid.

Volleys of shadow bolts were soon raining at these spiders, even as the first spider died in a fiery explosion, which Draco momentarily thought would be bad for them, drawing more to them, but later rethought that the fire would protect their rear from being approached as quickly.

The Voidwalker leapt forward as the first waves of spiders reached the ground, imposing themselves between their masters and the enemy, while the imps leapt upon Crabbe and Goyle, fireballs leaping in torrents from their little hands even as the two meatheads conjured more bolts of darkness to lob with great force at the enemy.

The succubus stealthily darted between spiders, keeping well away from the snapping pincers and trampling legs as they dealt with the Voidwalkers, her whip striking hard and true at the many eyes and unprotected underbellies of the vicious creatures.

And Nobu'tan himself, Draco noted, was not acting at the moment, but rather building up power in the fel magic, growing steadily darker and more shadowy. But then a spider tried to dodge around his minion and Draco had to return to the fight, throwing a spell that cause an affliction to unstably sprout up in the acromantula even as the Voidwalker knocked roughly into the beast, refocusing its attention on the small blue demon.

Then there was a small detonation next to him, and Draco jumped. Whirling to look, he was aghast to find that Nobu'tan had transformed. The scrawny Ravenclaw was gone, replace with a towering, dark purple demon, with massive horns and wings that stretched to the ground where hooves pawed once, just before the demon leapt into the air with great force, transforming once again into a fel meteorite as it crashed in the midst of the spiders.

The force sent the insects scattering momentarily, but then the demon was among them, tooth and claw raking through hides and powerful blasts of fel magic being throw like water from a fountain.

Pure chaotic magic spewed forth from the demonic form, not only causing great damage and havoc among the spiders, but infusing the other warlocks with more magical reserves, and they drank in the power to fuel themselves, the strength of their spells receiving the benefits of increase power and accuracy.

But even still, the spider swarm continued to flood down from the trees, and Draco wasn't sure how long even they could hold out against the near endlessness of their ranks. One particularly large spider, seemingly unafraid of the massive demon that Nobu'tan had become, charged in, pincers snapping and legs flailing.

The demon caught the mandibles in both clawed hands, straining with darkened grunts and with a flurry of hisses and clicks from the spider as they pair battled for dominance in their grapple. All around them, the smaller acromantula were starting to regain their bravery and launch another wave, so Draco ordered the warlocks and their demons to press forward and back Nobu'tan up in case the others attempted to ambush him while he fought with the massive spider.

They took defensive positions around Nobu'tan, Crabbe, Goyle and their imps peppering the massive spider with fire and shadow to aid Nobu'tan, while the Voidwalkers, Sartai, Theodore, Draco and Blaise hammered the encroaching waves from the spider nest, keeping them well back until the massive one was down.

But once more the tide turned, as Nobu'tan unleashed a chaotic bolt of dark green energy, that struck the spider he was holding in the many-eyed face, and causing it to release the demonic form, scuttling away in some form of terror, which gave Nobu'tan the opening to cast.

They all jumped when another massive bolt of pure chaotic energy erupted out of the demonic hands, slamming into the massive spider with great force, and slaying it instantly. The other spiders paused as the massive one died, before losing all the fight in them and retreating, scurrying with all haste back into their gigantic nest beyond the trees.

But the demonic form that Nobu'tan had taken clearly wanted to pursue and destroy them, as fire started to erupt from the clawed hands, and he looked like he was preparing to leap after them and set fire to the trees of their nest.

"Wait!" Draco heard himself cry out, and the demon turned, unreadable madness in its eyes as it gazed over the five other warlocks, who were all worn out and in some cases sporting minor injuries. Draco waited with his breath held, unsure whether Nobu'tan was in his right mind still, or under direct control of the magic he had invoked, but it escaped him in a rush as the form melted away and shrank back to the Ravenclaw.

"You are right, we cannot as of yet press on as I would want to," Nobu'tan said, barely looking even winded from the battle, "We shall take time to recuperate, and try another expedition sometime in the future. Take note of anything that you learned about yourselves during the fight, as battle-won experience regarding your abilities is a rare and valuable commodity."

Draco agreed on principle, as there was indeed much he had learned about his fighting style and the way Nether magic worked in conjunction with it, but at the same time there was a great deal of things he learned regarding his leader as well. The hot-tempered, almost bloodlust-like rage in him that was clearly a warped heritage from his Gryffindor parents, mixed with a ruthlessness that was learned from whomever had taught him the powers of the fel magic, coupled with the direct magical link that Nobu'tan had formed with the Nether, which allowed him access to greater strengths and powers than any of the other five warlocks.

Draco hadn't even heard of such a thing as transforming yourself into a demon, and initially he would relish the concept, but now seeing it in action he wasn't so sure if it would be the best idea for him. There seemed to be a bit of madness coupled with the transformation, and that could be extremely dangerous at the wrong time.

Still, he gratefully followed Nobu'tan out of the forest, helping keep watch in case anything tried to attack while they were all tired and distracted from their previous fight with the acromantula.

He couldn't shake the feeling, even when they finally snuck back into the castle proper, that they had been watched the entire time they were in the forest, but it was a ridicules thought, as there was nothing that could have followed them from the castle without being spotted by either them or their demonic servants.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione could sense that something was off with Harry and his Slytherin friends. Over the days of January and the beginning of February, she could just tell that something was different, wilder perhaps, about the group of boys. It seemed like each of them had rolled in something unpleasant, but over the days and weeks it had faded to a minor smell, enough so that Hermione paid it little mind now compared to how she had initially.

She had made casual mention of it to Harry at first, but the other mage had shrugged it off, saying that he was trying a different method with the Slytherins, hence why they had not participated in Hermione's growing group of mages, which had swelled in ranks ever since they returned from the winter holidays.

Apparently, the student body was far more open to the concept of Hermione knowing a different type of magic than just the traditional wand-based style, and was eager to learn what she had to offer. Even keeping it a relative secret from others, especially the adults of the wizarding world was not terribly a problem for them, but just the same, Hermione had enforced a vow of silence regarding the Arcane to all not in the know, enforced by magical contracts that each member had to sign with magic and their name. All in all, their numbers were pushing past twenty, with more that wished to learn a bit more before committing to learning the ways of the Mage, although they agreed to the vow of silence.

Yes, Hermione could easily say that all was going well, in both Hogwarts and their outside projects that took place at the school, when she walked into the Great Hall on February the fourteenth… and walked straight into a garishly decorated room. One glance at the Head Table spoke of what had occurred. All of the Professors present seemed greatly on edge and annoyed, except for one.

Gilderoy Lockhart was beaming from ear to ear, glad in violently pink robes, and happily eating his food while scanning a stack of cards that he presumably been sent to him.

That man was another thing that had convinced Hermione of the great wisdom that Harry had with his power in the Arcane. Once she had mastered the technique, she had quickly been able to sense the levels of magical power in others, even non-mage wizards, and unfortunately Gilderoy Lockhart was the weakest she had ever met, even lower than most first year students.

From there it was easy to deduce that the man was completely fraudulent in his tales of his own exploits, as there was no possible way that a man with such low levels of magical aptitude would be capable of those feats.

Harry was already present with a group of Ravenclaws, and Hermione walked over to him on her way to the Gryffindor table. Aside from the usual air of aloofness that the boy presented in the mornings, Harry seemed particularly annoyed and confused with all the decorations, as well as Lockhart in general.

"Tell me," he asked in a low whisper once Hermione came close, soft enough that the others at his table wouldn't hear, "what is this occasion that has all of the girls all a twitter, and the boys looking nervous and overeager to prove their masculinity…?"

Hermione almost laughed, but constrained herself. It made sense that Harry wouldn't have heard of the holiday, he having grown up in some far distant place that was sheltered from even the magical world, "Well, Valentine's day is a holiday celebrating romance…" she said hesitantly, smiling at the rather blank look from the Ravenclaw. She had the distinct impression that the concept simply did not compute with the twelve-year-old.

Unfortunately, before she could explain further, Lockhart stood up. "Happy Valentine's Day!" he shouted to the hall, "And may I thank the forty-five people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all… and it doesn't end here!"

The man clapped his hands once, and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarves. But these were all wearing little golden wings and carrying harps, not to mention looking downright furious at these facts. It was clear that Lockhart had put them up to it, and while they had agreed, they were not pleased about it whatsoever.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids," Lockhart said, beaming. "They will be roving around the school today, delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop there! I'm sure my colleges will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Hermione and Harry just blinked silently at the insane man. Both Flitwick and Snape were looking particularly affronted at being singled out the way they were, and while Flitwick was a dueling champion, he was relatively harmless in the way of random acts of violence, but Hermione thought that the man was walking on thin ice by provoking Professor Snape like he did.

"I get the feeling that this is going to be an extremely painful day for all involved…" Harry said sagely. And indeed he was proven correct, as the dwarves continued throughout the day to barge into classes to pass out the notes, and even poorly sing some valentines to highly embarrassed students, much to the annoyance of all involved or witnessing.

The capstone was, after a combined Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Charms class with Professor Flitwick, who refused to answer anyone who asked about Entrancing Enchantments, one of the dwarves started to approach Harry, elbowing people hard to get them out of its ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oy, you! 'Ary Potter!" shouted a gruff voice that vividly reminded Nobu'tan of times in Khaz Modan, and he slowly turned to face the grim-looking dwarf.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," the short man said, twanging his harp in an almost threatening manner. Nobu'tan didn't care for the tone whatsoever.

"I refuse it, now go away…" he said coldly, turning and walking away before the dwarf could begin.

"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, seizing his bag and yanking him back roughly. In a moment of blind rage, instinct took control, and fire leapt to his command, blasting the dwarf off of him and igniting the man's beard. The surrounding students leapt back, but what Nobu'tan focused on was the intense tearing as his bag was rent from the force of the dwarf's hold on it.

Items went everywhere: books, ink, quills, even some of his personal items that he took with him everywhere just in case, such as Tom Riddle's Diary. In a flash his wand flew through the air, summoning back every object he could see, and mending the bag in a heartbeat for the items to reenter. Unfortunately, there wasn't time to check if he had everything, as the prefects were coming to see what the commotion was, and naturally Nobu'tan had accidentally used fel magic to empower the swiftness of his spell.

He dashed away, uncaring as to who had seen or would speak regarding his action. He knew that he had not killed the insolent dwarf, and he was acting in self defense from a perceived threat. As for fel magic, Dumbledore had clearly empowered him with license to use it once, so why wouldn't he have slipped up and used it by accident once again. Weren't the Dark Arts as the wizard called them addicting or some such rot?

There was nothing that they could honestly hold against him for his accidental outburst. Although, being honest with himself, Nobu'tan felt rather exalted for having finally used his power in public for once, even if consequences were to follow it. Much like Hermione's instant fame, attention would be placed back on him, and while that was unfortunate, there would be ways to mitigate the damage.

And in the end, there was nothing that they could find out just yet that would compromise the invasion of the Legion from moving forward, not when Nobu'tan had the former Death Eaters to operate outside of the school while he was trapped here within. For what little bit of entrapment there was naturally, with his discovery of portal magic and how it could circumvent the wards of the castle.

Still, there would need to be preparations made to weather this storm. And firstly, he needed to make sure everything of his was in order. Quickly sorting through those things he had placed in the bag, Nobu'tan was able to ascertain what was still present, what was damaged and had to be replaced, including a pair of highly difficult inks that cost him time to produce, and what was missing. Raging slightly, he realized that Tom Riddle's Diary was indeed missing, and green fel fire danced across his body in his anger.

"So this is your black magic then, Harry…" said a voice behind him, and the orc-raised human's eye widened as he realized he had been followed. Turning slightly, trying to calm himself from the power that yearned to be released, he glanced at the doorway at Albus Dumbledore.


	25. C24: Clash of the Heirs

**So, I don't know why the site glitched out on me when I posted on Tuesday, but it did... the chapter went up and all that, but it refused to send out notification emails and whatnot to inform all of you, this is the new chapter however... ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Four**

 **Clash of the Heirs**

Albus was greatly concerned for the first time since he realized that Harry had used Dark Magic in his mysterious past life. throughout the many conversations he had tried to have with the boy regarding it, Harry had refused to open up and admit that there was anything wrong about his power, let alone fully commit to who and where he had learn it from, leaving Albus to make wild guesses and assumptions.

But now, seeing the sickly green fire that reeked of evil arcing up the boys arms as he tried in vain to suppress his anger at something, Albus knew something that he had not wanted to admit for a long time. This was no magic of Merlin, neither was it of the ancients. This was something new, and extremely dark for their world.

Which by extension meant that the Arcane, or even non-evil part of this same magic were not of their world in any fashion. But in calling out the boy about this at last, Albus could visibly see the doors that his trust had slammed shut again, and he knew that the boy was intentionally hiding something that Albus desperately needed to find out, or terrible consequences would follow.

"You really need to control Lockhart and his stupidity Professor…" Harry said by way of deflection, turning his back once again to his Headmaster and coaxing the fire from his arms to dissipate, for which Albus was grateful that the boy could indeed control it quite well, when rational and calm.

"Perhaps I do, but that is not the issue at the moment, but that you used Dark Magic to injure an assailant, which by rights you ought to have defended yourself, however not in that extreme of a manner." Albus replied coolly, "And then there's the question of where in the world you learned to harness such vile magic as I have never seen before…"

"We've been over this a hundred times, Professor," Harry replied, and Albus could sense the restrain in the boy's voice, "You've asked many times, and my answer will not waver. It doesn't matter who taught me or where, there is no way in all the creation of the titans that you'd be able to meet them or go to those places. It is not possible…"

"Yet…" Albus finished, surprising Harry, "Naturally your fascination with portals and creating gateways to locations is in the hope that you can bridge whatever obstacle of distance separates you from this person or persons, but I am concerned Harry as to why you feel such a mad devotion to someone who taught you clear and presently downright evil magic."

"Well, sadly my reasons and desires are not something that needs to be rationalized to you, now are they?" Harry countered, his face growing slightly darker as he spoke.

Albus could see where this line would go, and he wanted to forestall any possible decent into violence between the pair of them, especially as he didn't know the limits of Harry's power, so quickly he changed tactics, "Alright, let's just focus on why this current event happened, instead of the overarching issues between us Harry."

"Well, that would be perfectly reasonable, Headmaster, as I must report a theft of one of my possessions, one that I believe has much to do with the issue of the Heir of Slytherin." Harry said, his entire countenance changing in response to Albus dropping his invasive questioning. That alone bothered Albus, but at the same time the idea of new evidence regarding the Chamber of Secrets was equally enticing.

"I had found, in the same bathroom where we had questioned the ghost, Myrtle, a small black diary with the name T. M. Riddle on the spine, which when one was to write inside of it, would respond and communicate with you." Harry continued, "I can only presume that it was some sort of memory left behind by the first owner, based on what the unknown persona said, and they were quite forceful of wanting to prove that they knew that Hagrid had opened the Chamber fifty years ago, but I did not believe them, nor did I trust them even with my real name…"

"This is… actually quite disturbing Harry," Albus affirmed, "While I am concerned that you didn't bring this book to me sooner, I am grateful that you're telling me now rather than staying silent. It is indeed odd that such an artifact would crop up at such a time, and…" Albus thought hard as to how much he should reveal to Harry, and ultimately decided against involving him too deeply into the background of Tom Riddle, "I will be conducting a search of the school, and all the students for this item, to be announced today at dinner. We need to find that book; it's probably the key to this entire mystery."

Albus turned to leave, and had made it to the door before Harry spoke again, "the book resisted all attempts I made to understand what it was by magic, either yours or mine. That greatly concerned me, as it even ruined potions that I prepared to examine it, but all damage I attempted to do to the book was either undone or impossible. Do you have any ideas as to what it might be?"

"Alas, not a clue, but I will get to the bottom of this in time," Albus said, hiding the grim dread that settled in his stomach as he absorbed the words that Harry had shared. If the book was what he suspected, then all his beliefs since he left Harry on the doorstep of Private Drive would be correct. Lord Voldemort was not as gone as they had hoped, but had indeed lived on after his defeat by the one year old Harry.

Finding that book therefore was priority number one, and Albus would stop at nothing to do so. It was with a heavy heart that he announced that the school would be searched, and every student therein, to find a dark artifact that seemed to have made its way into the student body, and was suspected of being the cause of the attacks that year.

"I hope that everyone here will comply to this mandatory search of their possessions, and rest assured that we will not damage anything or would invade your privacy without due cause. It is only for the safety of everyone here that we do this, and only the Heads of House will conduct the searches of their students, according to the school's bylaws."

Naturally, there was a great deal of outcry and unhappiness regarding the decision, but Albus had said what needed to be said. He was Headmaster, and if he wished to conduct such a search, he was well within his rights to do so.

Albus' true plan however was that, in the midst of the search for the strange black diary, he would keep Harry busy so that Severus could go up to Ravenclaw tower and search the boy's belongings after Filius was finished with the Ravenclaws. To this end, he planned to go house by house in the search, rather than have the searches all go on at once, starting with Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

True, there was a chance that they found the book in Slytherin before reaching Ravenclaw, but somehow, Albus had a feeling that it would be far too obvious for someone from Slytherin to be attacking muggleborn students. Regardless, the students were dismissed by house, escorted by their Heads of House to monitor them and make sure that none of them tried to conceal anything or run off with vital information.

Meanwhile, Albus went with Severus to the Slytherin common room, where they used intricate spells to efficiently, yet thoroughly, search through the student's possessions. While there were a great many things that one such as Argus Filch would have confiscated immediatly, Albus preferred to turn a blind eye to some of the more mild infractions, thus earning the respect of the students in some small measure.

From there they moved on to Hufflepuff, which went even faster, with far less to actually confiscate, much as Albus had suspected. While there was little if ever anything remarkable about the house of badgers, they were still stout hearted and loyal to the rules of the school, and with an ever present humility to which the entire house submitted to the search.

Next was Ravenclaw, and while Albus allowed Filius to guide the search as he saw fit, Severus and Pomona were present to assist in making things as speedy as possible, and Albus made sure to guide Severus toward the second year boy's dormitory for the searching process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus entered the Ravenclaw dorm with a haughty look of irritation, mostly for the benefit of the students, to inspire the fear and respect that he as a Potions Master deserved, but also in a small part out of true annoyance for his constant involvement when it came to the Potter boy. While he was more than fine with studying the boy's strange abilities with potions and what constituted as strange and outlandish magic, but rifling through his possessions, for the second time in two years, was starting to cross a line of how involved Severus felt that he wanted to be.

Nevertheless, he did what he was told. The Ravenclaw boys were standing beside their respective beds, militaristically, waiting for judgment and dismissal regarding their belongings. Severus decided to save Potter for last, and started in a clockwise direction on the far side of his bed, sorting through the typical things that curious twelve year old boys would get involved with.

As per Albus' choices before the search even began, Severus glossed over things that would normally be mild to moderate offenses, such as magazines that were of a questionable nature, as well as overdue library books and other items that there otherwise banned from the school. Each boy was understandably nervous as their Potions Master searched through their most private of items, but the looks of relief as they were declared not in possession of the item they were looking for remedied anything that they had already be terrified of their teachers finding.

As the last boy before Potter was dismissed, Severus turned to find that the boy had sat upon his own bed, casually waiting for the search to begin. "I trust this will take somewhat longer than the others, so I hope you don't mind if I take a seat, standing for too long in one position is supposedly bad for you…" he said offhandedly, but Severus ignored the boy, turning his attention to the trunk at the foot of his bed.

"Open it if you will, Mr. Potter…" Severus requested, knowing that it was highly likely that the boy had some sort of protective measure placed upon the item to keep out the curious or malignant.

"Certainly Professor…" Potter replied, as though he had nothing to hide, and flipped the latch on the trunk, lifting the lid to reveal an assortment of rather benign and typical young male items. Sighing inwardly, Severus started to sort through the contents, setting aside clothing and other large items that could potentially be secreting smaller items beneath or within them.

There was nothing new that the boy had, aside from items that one would typically find in Hogsmeade or Diagon Ally, that would indicate any untoward behavior, strange though it would seem given his age and gender, but Severus dismissed that as a small blessing within the madness of this search. He had already seen far too much of what young men were into these days than he had wanted in his lifetime.

There were a handful of small scrolls that were questionable, but Severus could not read them, much as when he had found them before over a year ago, and he passed these to the side, going carefully through each and every new item that the boy had collected in two years of schooling.

One thing that did strike Severus as odd was the low amount of clothing items that Potter possessed, even compared to other boys his age, but that was more assuredly not his problem nor his reason for searching the boy's things.

Unfortunately, he did reach the end of Potter's items without any discoveries of note, aside from those that he had found once before, however he was now in a position to actually ask questions regarding them… "What fur is this made from?" he asked, holding the ancient robe made from some sort of wolf skin, the one that Potter had come to the school wearing.

"If you do not know, then it is likely that it is no longer on this world, extinct or otherwise…" Potter replied flippantly.

"That is not what I asked, Potter, I want you to tell me the specific breed of animal that grew this material… I am actually quite interested in its makeup…" Severus said, with a small amount of sincerity in his voice.

"Well, I suppose that you may know that it was made from the hide of a frost wolf, quite unlike any animal that you've probably seen before…" Harry said, shrugging. And he was quite right, Severus couldn't detect that the boy was lying regarding the origin of the fur, but he had never heard of such a creature before, but in the end he couldn't stay and get all the answers he wanted. He had already held up Potter for a bit longer than the others, and he wouldn't be surprised if Professor Flitwick was ready to come and check on his student.

Using magic to repack everything back in the trunk, Severus turned and dismissed Potter, watching the smug smirk as the boy departed for the common room. At least they were a step closer in narrowing down where the little black book they were seeking was hidden.

Returning to the common room it took one glance at Albus to know that it was not found in Ravenclaw, which left only one house left.

Gryffindor…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan smirked to himself as he rejoined his housemates in the common room. The fool of a Potions Master didn't even pause to think that he had more than one compartment on his trunk, let alone asked the important questions, that of the scrolls written in orcish script. Granted, neither was of terrible importance, basic inscription instructions and a handwritten note from Gul'dan himself, but they were of sentimental value to Nobu'tan and great links to the mystery that they were supposedly questioning into amid their search for the diary of Tom Riddle.

Once the search in Ravenclaw was finished, Professor Dumbledore beckoned for the other professors to come with him to Gryffindor tower, but paused as they reached the door. "Coming, Harry? Your expertise might be needed in this situation…"

Much to the shock of the professors, barring Snape, and the rest of the student's looks of awe and amazement, Nobu'tan rose from his seat next to the fireplace and followed, starting down the corridor that he knew separated Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers.

What he, and the rest of the professors, didn't expect was to find Minerva McGonagall meeting them halfway, looking very much flustered and concerned. "One of my students is missing…" she declared immediately to the Headmaster, which led to a flurry of questions. They quickly discovered that it was Giverna Weasley, younger sister of Ronald, that had disappeared, and none of the other Gryffindors could account for her whereabouts since the end of dinner and the announcement of the searches.

The Headmaster glanced back at Nobu'tan, and the pair of arcane wielders shared a nod of understanding, before the old man drew Snape into their confidence. "We shall locate her, if she is somewhere still in or near the school…" the Headmaster said, "Harry, Severus, if you will assist me…"

Nobu'tan was actually impressed at the speed which the Headmaster had progressed in the Arcane Arts, even as the old man started a ritual of scrying, tapping deeply into the magic of the school. A font of arcane power pulsated right there in front of them, and while the Potions Master hesitated, Nobu'tan understood its purpose, and leapt right in to joining his power to it, expanding the circle of sight throughout the corridors and rooms of the castle, searching for a signature known to the Headmaster, and shared via the magic to the others.

Once Snape joined in as well, their sight expanded to cover even the grounds of the school. For moments that seemed to drag on they continued to channel the spell, searching feverishly for any sign of the girl, but her signature itself was not in or nearby the school, even if there were faint traces here and there of it, from time she had spent casting spells or other activities in the school.

"I've found the largest concentration of her signature, other than her room…" Dumbledore said suddenly, letting the spell slip and their vision return to normal, after several moments of blinking away the blinding arcane power as it fizzled away. "The second floor landing, hurry!" the Headmaster said, before starting off at a run that left many of the other Professors in a daze. Nobu'tan was prepared, and could match the speed of the old man quite easily, and they arrived at the landing in question rapidly.

Not much had changed in the corridor from that first night that the blood-written words had appeared, except that now there was an entirely new line underneath the first. ' _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_.'

Dumbledore wasted no time in quickly advancing on the writing, examining it with both wand and the Arcane, before turning to Nobu'tan with an imploring look. "Time is of the essence, Harry. Do it; find her with your powers…"

Nobu'tan bowed his head in acceptance, understanding immediately what the old man wanted. aside from the showing that it would be as he worked the powers of fel magic into the air, there would be little for him to glean of what exactly Nobu'tan could do, and the thought of demons hadn't even entered the man's mind yet, so for the most part he was in the clear.

Just as he began, the other Professors arrived, only to be held back by Dumbledore as the wafting green mists of fel magic seeped from Nobu'tan, tasting, sensing and pinpointing the origin of the magic keeping the blood on the walls. Whoever had written this line had been sloppy, rushed even, and that led to great mistakes. It would have been easiest to simply summon a felhunter to seek the scent of the magic for him, but that was not to be an option with so many witnesses, so Nobu'tan had to do the deed himself.

Pulling traces of the magic to him, he reached out and felt the composition of the magic, the familiar and yet unfamiliarity of it, and enhanced his senses to find where it led. Turning slowly on the spot, he could see the traces of magic aura leading toward the bathroom of Myrtle… "There…" he said softly, stepping toward the room with trepidation, unsure what he would even find at the end of this new lead.

None made any attempts to stop him, but followed in his wake as the fel magic led Nobu'tan into the bathroom, bypassing the ghost as she spoke in her haughty obnoxiousness, and straight to a particular sink tap, that once turned gushed forth nothing, no water, not even a drip…

"That tap's never worked…" Myrtle said casually, which was a detail that Nobu'tan latched onto immediately…

Examining the metal fixture closely, the warlock found a strange set of scratches dug into the metal pipe, in the crude form of a serpent. It was rather odd, but when looked at in the right direction, Nobu'tan could almost think that the scratches would move, due to the flickering light… " _But how to make you open…_ ' he said, and the Professors around him gasped.

Nobu'tan looked back in confusion, but the sink before him started to shift, making the orc-raised human leap back in surprise. The sink itself sank into the stone floor, revealing a dark tunnel that lead into blackness, probably miles under the school.

"Merlin…" Professor McGonagall said, holding her hand to her mouth in shock. The other professors were similarly surprised at what they had discovered, and although Nobu'tan had a suspicion as to what it meant, he was still rather unsure.

"Harry, have you had any clue that you were a Parselmouth up until this moment?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"A what?" the warlock replied, not understanding the term. This seemed to only confirm something to the old man, and he nodded in that infuriating way that told Nobu'tan that he was not getting an answer out of the old man regarding it at this time.

"Either way," Snape said, changing the subject, "it would seem that we've found the entrance to the rumored Chamber of Secrets…"

"Indeed so Severus, and not a moment too late as well, You four go and secure the castle, while Harry and myself will go down and encountered whatever dwells within the Chamber, and hopefully rescue young Miss Weasley."

"As you sure that's wise Albus, to risk Harry on such a venture, none of us know what could be lurking down there?" McGonagall said, leading the protests from the other Heads of House. Dumbledore held up a hand, "While I know that it seems strange, but I trust that Harry is more than capable of protecting himself, perhaps in ways that none of us can possible imagine," he added, with a pointed look at the warlock.

Nobu'tan narrowed his eyes, seeing the double play for what it was. The old man was still hoping for more information of what Nobu'tan was capable of doing, and whether he was to be deemed a threat or a 'dark wizard' for his fel magic. Well, the orc-raised human couldn't completely fault the old man when he was right on the gold, not that he was in any fashion going to allow the old man to know quite how powerful his little prisoner truly was, at least not until Nobu'tan was ready to be free from this cage forever.

Gilded as it was, Hogwarts was still useful, so long as one did not allow themselves to be controlled by their cage…

He made toward the opening, ready to jump down into the blackness, when a torch somewhere further down the passage flared to life, and a stone slab slid out to where his foot would fall, becoming a perfect stair for him to step to. "I believe that answers how we will proceed into the depths…" Dumbledore said congenially, urging Nobu'tan to take the lead into the blackness…

As soon as he stepped to the first slab, it started to slide around and downward into the gloom, following the torch as it lit the way. Another slab opened behind him, allowing Dumbledore to follow him into the bowels of the castle.

More tunnels, looking like metal pipes, branched off in many directions, but their one way trip took them straight down the primary shaft, until it ended in a bed of small bones and other refuse that curved into an arching stone passageway before them. "Fascinating…" Dumbledore said, igniting his wand tip with a magical light, taking the lead into the gloom of the slick and rocky passage.

Shadows were cast in all directions, magnified by the wandlight, and Nobu'tan yearned to conjure fel fire to put himself at ease with the gloom, but he refused to even show the man that much of his true magical power. So instead, he summoned several small arcane orbs to float about them, and shine with the purple radiance of the school's internal magic, which was far stronger here, so close to the very foundation of the school itself.

Whoever or whatever was waiting for them here had no idea the trap that they had set for themselves by letting them follow it here. Animal bones littered the ground, and while Dumbledore tried to shuffle through them, Nobu'tan had no qualms about the sickening crunch as they shattered under his booted feet.

"Harry, look at this," Dumbledore said, gesturing ahead of them. Looking up, Nobu'tan's eyes widened at the massive form that loomed ahead of them, lying right across the tunnel unmoving. Their lights floated ahead, illuminating the poisonous green scales of some sort of serpentine form, but the skin was empty, shed long ago by some monstrously sized creature.

"Now it all makes sense, even down to the curious predicaments that the victims were found in," Dumbledore said as he stopped mid step. "We are in very grave danger Harry, as that skin is from no ordinary giant snake, but indeed the King of Serpents itself, a Basilisk… No doubt we will encounter it in due time, and if you value your life I encourage you to keep your eyes shut when it arrives, as looking it in the eye is undoubtedly a surefire cause of instant and painless death."

Dumbledore whistled then, and from far above a crooning sound came in response. A bright flaming red bird swooped down from somewhere high above, and alighted itself on the man's shoulder. "Fawkes, you must help protect us against the Basilisk…" the Headmaster told the creature, and while Nobu'tan felt gritty and on edge at the bird's presence, there was some surge of confidence that welled up in him regardless.

Dumbledore clearly noticed Nobu'tan's discomfort with his familiar, and like the educator that he was, launch into an explanation, "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry, and with its particular set of magical skills, he will be able to withstand some of the Basilisk's more deadly traits that we would."

Carefully, the pair of mages made their way around the massive snake skin, moving toward the tunnel on the far side. Nobu'tan made note that the ceiling here was very unstable, and quite possible able to cave in sometime soon, but they moved past the weakened portion in due time, spiraling downward into another smooth and wet tunnel, before it ended at a solid wall, ornately decorated by two entwined serpents carved dramatically into the stone, eyes set with gleaming emeralds.

"I believe it is obvious what is needed here, don't you think Harry?" Dumbledore said, looking to Nobu'tan, and he quite agreed. It was not hard to imagine these serpents to be real, and apparently he was one of the few people, if not the only one, able to speak to snakes in the castle, according to the reaction the first time around. "Is it really that rare a gift?" he asked Dumbledore casually as he walked closer to the wall.

"In Britain, most assuredly, as only the family of Salazar Slytherin possessed it, although I'm not aware that you are a relative of his, but that's a discussion for a safer location and time…"

Nobu'tan nodded, quite agreeing with the statement, and turned his attention to the glittering eyes of the carved snakes. " _Open_ ," he commanded, hearing the hissing coming from his own mouth, and still marveling at the strangeness of it, how could he speak a language unconsciously?

The carved serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves sliding smoothly out of sight on either side, revealing a massive chamber beyond, with towering pillars supporting a ceiling lost into darkness, casting their shadows long across the floor as a greening glow seemed to partially illuminate the entirety of the Chamber of Secrets. The snake motif was ever-present here, from carved beasts spiraling up the pillars, to ornate statues along the walls.

What was worst about the chamber, however, was the deathly silence that permeated the room, only broken by Nobu'tan and Dumbledore as they walked across the stone floor. Even amid all these signs, the warlock knew that they were being watched here, and that concerned him most of all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was not at ease in the slightest within the Chamber of Secrets. There were far too many places that Tom could, in fact would likely, be hiding, waiting to unleash his Basilisk and attack them. Even though he had Fawkes with him, and the phoenix understood that it needed to attack the eyes of the King of Serpents once it appeared, there were just too many potential problems with their hastily wrought plan. If not for the urgency of rescuing Miss Weasley, Albus would never have allowed such a hasty venture, but such as it was, they were as prepared as they could be.

Staying close to their sources of light, the pair of wizards and arcane magic users strode cautiously down the center of the Chamber, and as they neared the very last of the gargantuan pillars, Albus could make out a colossal statue of Salazar Slytherin, looking almost ape-like in appearance, looming over and completely dominating the far wall of the Chamber. It seemed that either the man himself, or one of his descendants, were extremely pompous and proud, and Albus was willing to bet that it was the latter option, as he doubted that the ambitious Salazar would have chosen such an old and unflattering appearance of himself for the statue.

But more importantly, lying between the statues enormous feet was a black robed figure, flaming red hair just barely visible in the green glow of the Chamber. Quickly, the pair crossed the last bit of floor that separated them from Miss Weasley's lifeless form, and with a single wave if the Elder Wand Albus was told all he needed to know. The girl had been possessed, multiple times, and was currently having the life drained out of her by a means that was unknown to him.

The little black book was there as well, clutched in the girls arms, almost cradled there like an infant. Arcane magic sprung to life around Albus, and he could tell that the book was indeed some form of evil artifact, tainted with the signature of a teenage Lord Voldemort, and was the thing stealing away Ginerva's life energies, but Albus had no idea how to eliminate it quickly or safely. There was still so much that they didn't know.

"You ought not to be here, Professor…" said a high cold voice from the shadows, and both Albus and Harry whirled to face what the Headmaster recognized immediately as the sixth year prefect, Tom Riddle.

"Surely you knew if one of my students was in danger I would find them, Tom," Albus said, his eyes and voice changing in a flash to steel. The Basilisk would be near as well, and the pair of them had to be prepared. It would be a difficult challenge, to battle the King of Serpents with only Harry to aid him, but Albus knew that Tom would focus on the boy, hoping to end him and separate the pair of them immediately.

Idly he wondered what effect the arcane powers he had learned would have on a Basilisk, and concluded to give it the attempt regardless, as there was not much else to lose.

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," Tom said, dropping all his attention from Albus and focusing in on the boy, just as the Headmaster had suspected. So this was a trap to try and lure Harry to him, feeble though it was. Tom clearly had wanted the diary to fall into the hands of someone closer to Harry to tempt him to find out how to get precisely here, but the search of the castle had forced his hand early.

"And what if I don't care how long you've waited, you can continue to wait until your dead, again…" Harry replied, his voice turning to flint, coarse and grating as some strange accent appeared in his anger. Albus couldn't place the origin of it, and had to assume that it was from the race of people that had reared him.

Tom clearly wasn't pleased by the flippant attitude, "We will talk now, or you all will die all the sooner…" he said, smirking as he withdrew Ginerva's wand from his robes. How the specter could hold a physical object was beyond Albus, but there was little time to contemplate that. He reached for the Diary in the girl's arms, hoping that separation might weaken the pull on the girl's magic and life force, and keep her alive that much longer.

Only to have to dodge as a spell zipped through the air where his hand had been, "I think not Professor…" Tom said harshly, "I see that you're meddling has only begun, and while I cannot take all the time I would like to get the answers out of Potter as I'd like, I will still relish killing you both."

Turning on the spot to face the statue, Tom started to hiss, reaching a hand upward to the statue, almost in reverence. One glance at Harry told Albus all he needed to know. The Basilisk was coming. Before even Albus could react, Fawkes took flight, trilling a song of courage and battle as he swooped upward. "Run Harry!" Albus commanded, even as the sound of stone grinding against stone filled their ears.

One quick glance upward showed Albus that the stone mouth of Salazar's statue was opening, cunningly revealing the hidden nest of the Basilisk. Momentarily, as he turned and put as much distance from him and the statue as he could, Albus deducted that it was highly likely that it was one of Slytherin's immediate decedents that created this place, rather than the famed wizard himself. It was unlikely that one would monopolize on such a nickname as 'serpent tongue,' for such a convoluted hiding place within a secret chamber.

But those thoughts were dashed as a massive body collided with the ground with a dull thud, and Tom hissed again, obviously ordering the beast to attack. Keeping his face turned away, Albus fired a pair of spells over his shoulder, hoping to at least distract the Basilisk and keep its attention away from either Harry or Fawkes as he maneuvered swiftly between a set of pillars.

If he stayed out of a straight line from the creature, it couldn't lunge at him, and that would buy them all more time. But the beast never made it that far before Fawkes made his move. Albus saw the bird diving straight at the massive snake behind him, and heard the roaring, hissing noise that meant that the phoenix had made direct contact.

Giving a safe window of time for Fawkes to do what was needed, Albus turned, smiling coldly at the empty and bloodied eye sockets of the King of Serpents. Its killing gaze rendered inoperable, Albus now had a fighting chance against Tom and his pet. Although there was still a slim margin for error, as the creature could still smell him in the air, and the fangs carried the most lethal poison on the planet.

Granted, Fawkes was still present, and carried the only known antidote, just in case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom Riddle was seething. Leave it to Albus bloody Dumbledore to not only arrive and ruin his plans, but to bring the one creature that could survive the gaze of the Basilisk long enough to blind it forever. " _NO_!" he roared at the monster, " _LEAVE THE BIRD_! _LEAVE THE BIRD_! _YOU_ ' _RE PREY IS BEHIND YOU_. _YOU CAN STILL SMELL THEM._ _KILL THEM!_ "

The basilisk swayed dangerously for a moment, flicking its tongue to orient itself, before whirling at Dumbledore when the wizard conjured a barrage of missiles made of some bright purple magic. That confused Tom, there was no spell that he had heard of that could produce so many attacking projectiles at once, outside of transfiguration, but the old man had not so much as raised his wand when he had cast his spell.

Something odd was going on, and Tom was not pleased to be left out of the loop. Then Potter returned, and Tom smiled again. He had Dumbledore dealing with the Basilisk, and he had Ginny's wand. Potter was a twelve-year-old second year; he stood no chance against him.

"Well, Harry Potter. This is not how I wished for things to go, but the game ends here regardless. Know that you're precious mother bought you only eleven years of borrowed time, but Lord Voldemort got you in the end…" he gloated, before snapping a shield into place on instinct when fire roared from the boy's outstretched hands at him.

"What?!" he roared, confused, even as Potter's eye shimmered from the normal acid green, betraying the deep crimson hidden behind them. "You!" he yelled, confused all the more. Where had Potter learned Dark Magic? Not from Dumbledore, that much was clear, but Tom was immediately forced onto the defensive when bolts of darkness and jets of violently green flames leapt to life from the boy, causing powerful concussions against his shield and shattering the stone floor all around him.

The boy was chanting, but the language was something that Tom had never heard of before, and doubted that even his adult form, wherever he was hiding, had either. It simply could not be possible. The boy couldn't be this strong, not in a lifetime of learning. And yet, as if to defy even the notion, there stood Potter, confident, unafraid, and even slightly intimidating.

And them the boy grinned, dark purple energy dancing on his hands, "I know your secret…" he muttered, his eyes flashing in the dim light of the chamber. Energy started leaping from the diary, to an outstretched hand of the boy, even as more magic poured forth from him, keeping Tom from coming to the defense of his greatest secret.

"No!" he bellowed, watching helplessly as the Diary was leeched of himself, forming a perfect purple shard of energy in the boy's hand.

And with no supply of magic to sustain him, nor a vessel to inhabit, Tom Riddle felt himself, agonizingly, rent piece by piece and start to dissolve. But the torment did not end, as Potter turned the soul sucking ability upon the remains of Tom, drawing him into the tiny shard of conjured magic. Tom tried to scream in agony, but there was no ability for him to speak anymore, and before he could even think of a way out, it was over, and darkness took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan looked down at the tiny piece of a soul shard in his hand. Odd that it was so much smaller than normal ones that he had claimed from the animals of the forest, but there was time for full questions later, once the Basilisk was dead. Now without a master to control it, it was going on a rampage faster than an ogre with a stubbed toe.

Rushing to be in range, Nobu'tan took a quick assessment of the situation. Dumbledore was slowly being backed into a corner, the blind creature still managing to sense where he was and lunging accordingly. Arcane and fire magic was blasting off of the scaly hide, to little effect. It seemed that an ancient magical beast might have had some resistances in it.

He truly hadn't wanted to do thing, but there was little option to bring down the monster, as he doubted that it would listen to him if he tried to speak the language he had only learned about that day, and actually spoken a few words twice. Calling upon the powers of the Twisted Nether, Nobu'tan flung a bolt of pure chaotic energy at the Basilisk, a weapon that no defense could protect from, but took much in the way of energy to control.

Completely blind from the Phoenix's attack, there was no way for the beast to try and avoid it, and the chaos bolt slammed into the back of the serpent's head, blasting through and out of the creature's mouth with terrible force.

Gore flew in all directions and the delightful smell of sulfuric burning enveloped the chamber as the open wound where the head one was starting to be burned closed by the fel energy that had killed it. Dumbledore looked down from the beast to Nobu'tan, a look of true terror on his face at what had just happened, and Nobu'tan knew that the old man was just not realizing what he was truly capable of.

But the sounds of the girl stirring distracted the Headmaster for the time being, and he rushed to her side, assisting her to stand and reassuring her that everything was over, and she was now safe. Personally, Nobu'tan couldn't have cared less, but picked up the now empty diary that had contained a portion of Tom Riddle's, or rather Lord Voldemort's, soul.

Looking between the fractured soul shard and the now empty book, understanding was starting to take place. The madman must have found a method of safety breaking his soul in pieces, secreting them away to prevent himself from dying when his time came. Not the way that Nobu'tan, or any true warlock would want, but still an impressive piece of necromantic magic nevertheless.

"We should leave this dreadful place now, Harry." Dumbledore said authoritatively, and Nobu'tan had no reason to object, so he followed as the old man led the way out of the grisly and now quite warm chamber. Still, in the back on his mind, the warlock was preparing. Now that the Chamber had been dealt with, the true struggle was only about to begin, especially with how the old Headmaster would deal with the true information of just how 'dark' and powerful his prized pupil truly was, and just what lengths he would go to in the attempt to constrain him…


	26. C25: Prisoner

**Well, mercifully that madness with the notification emails has ended, so we can all resume the normal schedule and put those moments of insanity behind us... Even still, many thanks to the many reviews and comments that people sent, as always. Enjoy the new chapter. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Five**

 **Prisoner**

Severus turned with the other professors, who had all gathered in the staff room after restraining their pupils to their common rooms, as the door banged open, reveal a quite grisly sight. Albus Dumbledore, his robes slashed and wet with water and blood, guiding in an equally soiled Harry Potter and Giverna Weasley.

Madam Pomfrey rushed to them in a flash, knocking aside several people in her haste, and was examining the pair of students with her wand instantly. The other professors bar Lockhart, who had actually fled the castle when they casually made the comment that he ought to have gone with Potter and Albus with how he had boasted of knowing the location of the Chamber all along, all gathered around to hear exactly what had happened down the hidden passage in the girl's toilet.

Albus did not completely disappoint, although it was clear that he left out quite a bit of detail, however it sufficed the vast majority of the other Professors to know that the creature, which had been a Basilisk of all things, was now dead, and the culprit caught and expelled from the school once and for all.

The old man had caught Severus' eye with a dangerous glint, which told the Potion's master that there was a great and terrible truth to the story, of which he was privy to hear at a later time, but with current company that was not to be possible.

"These two need to come to the Hospital wing, immediately," Poppy said, taking each student by the hand and starting to guide them out. "Yes, I quite agree, Severus if you'll come and assist, I think I might need some sort of pick-me-up as well after that ordeal." Albus said casually, and Severus knew that that was his cue to depart alongside them.

It was clear that something had occurred that either needed his expertise in the Dark Arts, or it was about Potter, although Severus believed that in the present circumstances the two could go easily hand in hand. When he arrived in the Hospital wing a short time later, Poppy had already ushered the two students into beds, Potter in the far back while the Weasley girl was next to her office, and Albus had taken a seat in a chair next to Potter, a cup of strong tea in his hands, while the boy had a bowl of some sort of soup next to a vial of potion, dreamless sleep of Severus was to take a guess as he approached.

"Something to make us unable to be overheard Severus, if you please," Albus requested, and Severus cast one of his personal spells, that would fill the ears of listeners with a subtle buzzing, making their conversation quite undetectable.

"Now Harry," Albus started slowly, turning to face the boy dead on, even as Potter pushed aside his half eaten bowl of soup with a look of disgust, although Severus doubted it was regarding the food. "We need to discuss your particular… talents… that you displayed both before and within the Chamber of Secrets…"

And suddenly Severus was terribly worried that his spell might not be strong enough, as the look on Potter's face seemed to be attempting to melt the Headmaster, the chair he was sitting in, and the stone floor beneath it. "How is it any concern of yours, Professor, what magic that I studied long before I ever met you? Why is it that you, in your _wisdom_ , took it upon yourself to imprison me within your school in the first place, as though you deemed yourself my guardian, when clearly you tried at the first convenience to pawn me off to some magic-less relatives that didn't want anything to do with me?" the boy spat back, eyes flashing dangerously between green and red, almost looking amusing in their festivity, if not for the serious tone and weight of the words.

Albus however, wasn't fazed, "I figured we'd reach this point eventually Harry…" he said sadly, almost remorsefully, "but due to many circumstances, I actually am your magical guardian, and am well within my rights to make certain that you are taken care of. And before you start, you are still considered a child in our world, regardless of the level of independence or freedom you had before you returned to us, and whether you like it or not, the rest of the world would not look kindly upon you just going about and doing as you liked."

The boy looked like he had been slapped, the rage clearly boiling on his face, but Albus had only gotten started, his perfectly calm voice cutting like a knife, "As for your dark magic, it is not merely I that am concerned, but if the entire world were to know, they would be greatly concerned, angry even. There is hardly a person in our world who hasn't heard your name, and the things that you, quite unconsciously I assure you, had done while a child. To learn that the vanquisher of Lord Voldemort has himself turned to Dark Magic would crush their spirits, and they would be out for blood, yours and mine."

The Headmaster then moved like a flash of lightning, his wand flicking out and a circle of magic appearing on the boy's wrist, piercingly blue and making Potter wince and hiss angrily, "Now I am most unable to change what has happened, and I truly wish that I had foreseen the possibility for you to disappear into the unknown for eleven years, but what has happened has happened, and we have to deal with those consequences, both of us." Albus continued, as though he had done nothing at all, "But I cannot allow you to use Dark Magic of any sort in the vicinity of students. I understand that it is part of you now, and that you used it to save my life, but it is inherently destructive in nature; and therefore unsafe for the other children, especially with how proficient you seem to be with it."

"And this is supposed to forcibly prevent my using of it…" Potter said scornfully, holding up the enchanted wrist and shaking it slightly, as though testing to see if the ring of magic would rattle like a bracelet.

"No, I doubt that I currently have magic strong enough to bind you completely in that regard, but if it needs be I will make the attempt to do so. This particular charm is to monitor whenever your magic spikes, such as casting a spell, and will report directly to me if Dark Magic of any sort is used near you regardless of where you are. And as your magical guardian, I will come and remove you from any location where you encounter Dark Magic, and you will stay the remainder of the time, whether it is a holiday or the summer, here at the castle where I can make sure that you are not capable of harming another without my direct involvement to prevent it."

"So it boils down to threats and force then…" Potter replied coldly, his eyes burning like small coals.

"If it must, Harry, I will protect the others students just as fiercely as I protected you down in the Chamber," Albus affirmed, standing. "We will leave you now to rest, and think about how best you can accommodate the situation. I hope that you will in time learn to trust us, and these measures will no longer be needed, and perhaps this addiction to the Dark Arts can be broken in time, but until then we have to keep you and everyone else safe.

Albus started toward the door to the Hospital wing, and Severus followed. The old man stopped at the door and turned back, "Oh, and to that end, you will not be going to Malfoy Manor again, as I cannot trust you in the care of Lucius at this time… Good night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus felt the explosion of magic rage the moment he closed the door to the Hospital Wing. Harry was extremely displeased, borderline violent in his desire to vent his frustration, but the boy wasn't stupid, and knew better now that Albus would not tolerate anything regarding his dark magic. It had served its limited purpose, in both locating the Chamber of Secrets and defeating Tom and the Basilisk, and for that Albus would grant forgiveness for its uses, but otherwise he could not allow Harry to practice such arts in a school full of light and neutral family's children.

It would only take a few words to have a massive amount of complaints and unwanted attention heaped upon the pair of them, and this constraint was as much for Harry's protection as it was for Albus' sanity, or what was left of it if Severus' expression was anything to go by.

"It had to be done Severus," Albus said, snapping the Potions Master from his dazed state.

"Of that I do not disagree, but I wonder what madness we might awaken by blatantly confronting him in such manner." The man replied, deep concern etched in his voice.

"He is only twelve, Severus, and there is still very much a child in him, regardless of how mature he acts most of the time. And if I must, I will temporarily bind his magic to cut him off from the influence of his own darkness…"

Severus winced at the thought, and Albus knew the reason why. Dark Magic was indeed an addiction in every sense of the word, cutting one off from it completely could, in severe cases, be lethal. "We will do all we can, both to prevent such measures from being needed, and to help him if that is what it takes to save him…" Albus said with finality.

He had made his stand, and would not back down from his word. But he had to actually research the ritual spell to do it if it became necessary. "Harry will not be leaving the castle this summer," he added to Severus as they walked in near silence up to his office, "I cannot risk Lucius trying to undo what we've accomplished thus far with Harry."

"So long as Lucius doesn't become aware of it in another method," Severus commented, and Albus knew to what he was referring. It was highly likely that a letter would be soon winging itself to Wiltshire for the Pureblood, if it wasn't already, but Albus was prepared this time.

"Let him try…" he said, as they arrived outside the gargoyle. He had quite a bit still to share with Severus of what he observed down in the Chamber, and it may take all night, so Albus called and elf for some refreshment, and sat with a sigh of relief in his chair behind the massive Headmaster's desk. "Now to relay what seemed to be a more illuminating evening to you, Severus…" he began.

Then he began recounting all of his observations about Harry, Tom and the diary from the point that Albus and Harry entered the tunnel toward the Chamber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius wasn't sure if he ought to have been surprised when a Hogwarts owl swooped into his office to deliver a letter from Lord Nobu'tan. The owl did not remain, so Lucius presumed that it was not meant for him to respond, at least not directly.

Unrolling the scroll of parchment, Lucius was immediately drawn to the hasty script in which the message was written. ' _Lucius, Dumbledore now aware of the fel magic, but not existence of the Legion. Probable imprisonment within Hogwarts castle soon, plans must accelerate, will join you soon enough. Continue work to locate Tome, and strengthen defenses of manor, will become primary base when we make our move. ~N_ '

Incinerating the message as soon as he committed it to memory, Lucius sat in thought for several moments. If Dumbledore was in any way on to them, the Nobu'tan was more than correct that Malfoy Manor would need a security upgrade, but nothing to obvious as of yet. He would save such heavy and powerful magic for whatever 'move' Nobu'tan was referring to, probably his own break out of Hogwarts from the flow of the message.

What was even more interesting was what was unspoken in the letter, as no mention of a cut of communication was made, although it was clear that any letters to Nobu'tan directly would be searched by Dumbledore himself at the least, so Lucius would naturally want to send things indirectly through his son.

But also nothing was said regarding the training of the ex Death Eaters in the ways of the warlock, which meant that that aspect of their training was to continue, if not also accelerate, along with their plans to infiltrate the Ministry and take the Grimoire of Merlin.

However the most interesting thing was the clear command to take no actions regarding his imprisonment. That meant that the boy warlock had a plan already forming in his mind, which Lucius was actually quite interested in seeing unfold. Sketching out a quick and direct reply, Lucius called for the family owl and gave it commands to deliver the message to Draco, although it was clear that the message was labeled to 'Harry Potter'.

Rising after the bird took wing, Lucius stretched, relishing the small pops as his joints realigned to their proper positions after sitting for so long in the cramped office. He had a great deal of work to do if he was to prepare the Manor for the return of Lord Nobu'tan. There was also quite a deal of wards and spells he would like to brush up on first, to see if he could prevent adverse effects from the power the Dark Mark still had over those who had served the Dark Lord before the man had been killed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan wasted no time in sending off a letter to Lucius, planning out his orders in detail that would only make sense to the Pureblood Lord if the message was intercepted. With only a few months left before the summer began, and the likelihood of his temporary imprisonment in the castle, he had much that he had take care of, mostly regarding what moves would be taken when he went to leave this place.

He had a strong feeling, much as he did while he was in Dalaran, that his separation from it would go less than desirably, with much fallout after the fact. In the first case, with a dead apprentice and Kel'Thuzad chasing after him all the way to Quel'Thalas, and it seemed that Dumbledore would be more than willing to go to the same lengths, if not further, in his efforts to control Nobu'tan for whatever his inane ends turned out to be.

At least, for the time being, he still had freedom of movement, probably restricted to the interior of the castle other than for classes, but that was more than enough for what he needed. The monitor spell upon him was by far the most concerning of his problems however. Dumbledore had mentioned that it monitored the magic within him, which would have caused Nobu'tan to believe that the Arcane and Fel magic would still be usable, but then he had gone to add that it would notify him if Nobu'tan was even near such magic, which added a layer of problems that was most unwanted.

He would not be able to monitor, in person, any of his fledgling warlocks in action for a time, not that they would need direct instruction for a while yet, but still it was most inconvenient for him. Momentarily he had considered just leaving right then and there, showing Dumbledore that the man had no power over him, but he would face more challenges if his plans with Lucius were not prepared for the inevitable move that Dumbledore would make to try and take him back, possible even by force.

He needed the Manor reinforced to withstand any sort of assault, and preferably for them to take at least one of the artifacts that they needed to summon the Legion before the Headmaster had time to react, and that was the purpose behind the letter, as well as his waiting until into the summer before revealing more of his power to the old man.

Otherwise, Nobu'tan spent his time in the Hospital Wing merely resting, as well as plotting out his own personal moves for the rest of the time that the other students would be at Hogwarts. there were still a few things regarding working with Runestones that he wanted to research, but otherwise he was finished with whatever the various Professors were currently offering to teach him, both in and out of classes, as in the coming year the students were to decide on what extra subjects they were to learn, and Professor Flitwick and McGonagall, both of whom were more than willing to answer his many questions in the past, were more and more deferring him to wait and see when those classes began in the coming term.

But, once he was released the next day, things were truly affected in a strange way by the events of the Chamber. For one thing, the entire view of the Weasley children about him had instantly changed, especially that on Ronald. The boy actually approached Nobu'tan and, without saying a word, shook his hand with what appeared to be tears forming in his eyes before he simply turned and walked away. It was odd, but Nobu'tan guessed that the boy truly was worried for his sister after learning the awful truth of where she had disappeared to.

Otherwise, the attention from the rest of the student body started to become too much about the end of the meal, and were it not for Draco stealthily passing a letter into Nobu'tan's hand as the Slytherins departed the hall en mass. It was mercifully a weekend, so the orc raised human took the opportunity to remove himself from the sights of the other children, and holed himself up in the Ravenclaw common room.

Certainly, there were still some there, but significantly fewer that had random questions regarding the events of the Chamber, as members of his house had already been informed by Professor Flitwick of what they needed to know regarding the incident, and that had been enough for the majority of them. Nobu'tan was sitting in the common area of the Tower, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace and trying to study a few last parts of the library books he had checked out on various Runic magic, when he kept getting distracted from his reading by the large statue that dominated the area just next to the entrance of the tower.

From what he had quickly learned his first few weeks in the House, the statue was that of Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder that the Tower, and house in general, was named for. The woman was an interesting looking witch; rather haughty and a little full of herself, according to the manner of which the statue was made, but what drew the warlock's eye was the small tiara or crown that she was wearing. The famed Diadem of Ravenclaw, another of the artifacts that he needed to open the way for the Legion and earn his ticket back to Azeroth. Unfortunately the artifact was deemed 'lost' by wizarding culture and hadn't been sought after for centuries.

There was a question in Nobu'tan's mind however, he had done a small amount of digging when he had learned that a ghost had been attacked by what had turned out to be the Basilisk, and had found that Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the resident ghost of Gryffindor, was actually a distant relative of the famed Godric of the same house, which made Nobu'tan wonder, could the other three house ghosts also be relatives of their founders?

Unfortunately, the ghost that sometimes occupied the Ravenclaw Tower, known primarily as the Grey Lady, was not present at this time, so the orc raised human had to wait for her to turn up again, as she often was not seen by members of Ravenclaw for days at a time, and could not be found throughout the castle. Where she went, no one knew…

In the meantime, Nobu'tan busied himself with the letter that Draco had passed to him, which had been written by Lucius in response to his hasty message the previous evening. It was a simply few sentences, affirming the commands given, and wishing Nobu'tan speed and safety in his necessary endeavors, and that all would be prepared as quickly as possible for whenever the warlock decided it was time for them to move forward.

Nobu'tan shook his head, typical Lucius; quick and to the point. Nobu'tan tossed the letter into the fireplace when he was finished with it, not daring to risk another finding it, even in its compressed and hopefully indecipherable script, but no more risks were allowed. He was about to return to his book, when a shimmering pale figured phased directly through the nearby wall. The Grey Lady had returned, looking typically forlorn, albeit haughty and proud, and actually taking a moment to study her, Nobu'tan realized how strikingly she looked like the statue of Rowena, but not exactly.

Approaching the ghost, which had moved to float over a desk in the far side and was looking at the spines of various books in the small Ravenclaw bookshelf there, she turned as he cleared his throat. "Yes, may I help you?" she asked, serene but with a tiny sense of annoyance at being disturbed.

"Pardon me, Lady," Nobu'tan started, "but I couldn't help noticing that you look strikingly familiar to the statue we have of Rowena Ravenclaw, and I was wondering… I mean, the other House ghosts are all somewhat distantly related to their founders, I was wondering if you might be…"

"Might be related to Rowena," she finished for him, and inwardly Nobu'tan smiled, knowing that the ghost had betrayed a small smile at the implication. "Yes, I am related to Rowena, probably far more than the others to their respective founders." She said, seeming to draw herself up slightly in retelling her tale, "In life, I was Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter. Few rarely ask me of my past anymore, and fewer still have the sincere wish to know that I've seen in you, Mr. Potter, so normally I wouldn't have answered, but for you, I share this important secret."

"Dear Lady Ravenclaw," Nobu'tan began again, hoping that the small amount of respectful flattery were enough, "there must be so much that one such as yourself could teach us about the traits and values of your mother, which if I am to guess you strove to fulfill as much, if not more, than we all ought to be here, in the house named after her."

"Many already know what her greatest value was," Helena replied, pointing at the engraving on the base of the statue of her mother, which read ' _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_.'

"True, but perhaps you understand the phrase in a manner that could benefit us, the future generations that would lack some particulars of the context it was spoken or explained in. Does it refers to knowledge as a whole, or particular parts that someone could learn. Is there a hierarchy of what one ought to learn and an order that things are listed it of most worth?" Nobu'tan conjectured, earning a small laugh from the ghost.

"You are indeed a curious wizard, Mr. Potter. My mother would have greatly appreciated your humor, and from what I have seen, she would have wanted to mould you herself after her own image, to raise you up beyond a point you could possibly have dreamed of." She replied gently, smiling at him.

Nobu'tan said nothing, but he already had quite an idea of what that scenario would be like, having lived it already, twice. Over the next few hours he talked with Helena about her mother, and Helena herself, as the ghost seemed to weary of speaking solely about her mother quite quickly, so the warlock kept the movement of the conversation from focusing solely on the achievements and desires of the great founder for too long.

Nobu'tan was carefully steering them closer and closer to the diadem, but he could tell that it was a sore subject for the ghost, and it made sense, as she probably had been hounded by seekers of the lost artifacts for generations. If there was any information that she had to give, she probably would only give it to the most worthy causes that she could find.

So how best to stimulate the ghost to reveal what she knew? Nobu'tan chose to show her a project that needed such extra wisdom to become a reality, something so extraordinary that it must come to pass, yet difficult enough to warrant the diadem's return to the wizarding world. Spreading the rough parchments filled with his notes and complicated Arithmancy and runic arrays across the desk that they shared, he began his pitch, without mentioning the diadem even once.

"You see, look here," he said, pointing at the modeled stones that would be required to power his vast teleportation network, "even in this day and age, reliable transportation is faulty at best, and through these great portals, I hope to revolutionize the entire method of transportation. If you make getting around easier, people have more time to do other things, and thus society at large is benefitted, but I am having a massive amount of difficulty with these rune sequences," he added, gesturing at a compilation of possibilities in both Latin and other earth-based languages, that were meant to potentially join the space-time gap between each set of portals, "I cannot figure out exactly which sets of runic script will accomplish best what I need. Granted I could use trial and error, but the catastrophe if I make a mistake would shut the project down forever."

Falling silent, he watched as the ghost peered with astonishment at his work. No doubt he was impressed by the complexity and level of effort placed by a second year, a mere child in her eyes, but Nobu'tan knew that this level of design was well past those in their seventh year of Hogwarts, or fifth year of taking runes and Arithmancy.

"Mr. Potter, I had been aware that you are something of an extraordinary student, but I had never considered such passion that you had for this. That one problem solved, and you dream already could easily become a reality, and the world would greatly shudder at the changes that would flow from it." she said.

Nobu'tan smiled shyly at the praise, but frowned, "If only I was just a bit smarter though, as there's no one that would fund a project with even one such terrifying flaw in it."

"Well… there could be… no its ridicules…" the ghost started, but Nobu'tan pounced on the thread of speech.

"There could be a way? How?!" he asked excitedly, allowing his boyish voice to rise in volume slightly. The ghost didn't so much as flush, as part of her translucent face grew slightly more opaque.

"I was going to say, that there may once have been a way." She said sadly, gesturing once more at the statue of her mother. "My mother's Diadem, provides just such a burst of insight when worn by one who is as devoted to their cause…"

Nobu'tan allowed his face to droop then, causing the ghost to look at him in concern, "Then it's hopeless, isn't it. The diadem was lost wasn't it? You're saying I should give up for now, let my dream rest and focus on my studies…"

"Absolutely not!" she replied hotly, and inwardly Nobu'tan smiled at his victory. "The Diadem is lost to those alive now perhaps, but I know where it last was, as I put it in its hiding place myself, when I stole it from my mother."

Once more Nobu'tan forcefully projected the reaction that the ghost would expect from a child, that of hopeful giddiness, "So you know where I can find it?" he asked cautiously, as though still controlling his despair from moments ago.

"Well, I did… before another boy came and persuaded me to help him find it…" the ghost said, ashamed. "And now, while I know the location of the Diadem, it is very much unusable by anyone anymore…"

"Did he break it?" Nobu'tan asked, genuinely curious at this point.

"After a manner…" the ghost said sadly, "he took it, and befouled it with Dark Magic, and it will harm any that wear it now…"

"Well, then there has to be a way to remove that magic and return it to its proper purpose!" Nobu'tan said, letting confidence shine through his young voice, thinking to himself about how easy it was to control the ghost's emotions, one she let him into her confidence.

"Yes," she said slowly, gaining confidence herself, "I suppose you of all the house of Ravenclaw would be capable of purging the Dark Magic in the Diadem, with what I've seen you accomplish…"

"Then where is it?" Nobu'tan asked, keeping himself from seeming to eager to locate it.

"In the room of hidden things…" the ghost replied, "If you need to ask, you will never know… but if you know where it is, you need only ask…" she said, a cryptic little smile on her face. She was testing him, to see if he truly was a brilliant as she hoped he was.

Nobu'tan thought long and hard. Knowing of a room and needing only to ask reminded him of only one location in the entire castle. "The hidden room on the seventh floor, that turns into whatever you want it to be?" he responded, and the ghost smiled. "The Room of Requirement, as my mother often fondly referred to it, created using the magic of the Diadem itself, no less; her pride and joy, after her family that is."

Nobu'tan bowed deeply to the ghost, "Thank you so much, Lady Ravenclaw. You've given me hope that my project will indeed live to see fruition."

"And thank you Mr. Potter, for allowing me to hope for the reparation of a grave mistake I make so long ago…" the ghost responded, watching serenely as he packed away his designs and fled the common room. Once out in the corridor however, Nobu'tan paused. Glancing down at the thin band of magic around his wrist, annoyance flared inside him. If he got too close to the Diadem, and it was cursed, the stupid charm would notify Dumbledore instantly. He could simply shatter the charm with his Arcane ability or even a wizard spell of his own, but Nobu'tan didn't doubt that that would trigger the same notification to the old man as well.

So it seemed that he had little choice but to bide his time, as much as he'd want to seize the Diadem now and be done with it, there had to be a level of planning and patience for now. He had to wait until Lucius was well prepared for the Manor to become a defensible place against Dumbledore, so that they could continue their search for the other artifacts once the young warlock broke out of the school and returned to them there.

So it was with a huge, grudging effort that Nobu'tan turned away from going straight for the hidden room on the seventh floor corridor, and instead went downward to the dungeon room where his alchemy and inscription supplies were gathered, to work some more on those items, perhaps write out more scrolls that would assist his students in understanding their abilities.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione found the end of term exams to be almost as easy to handle as their first year tests, and with the announcement that the Chamber had been sealed once more and the Heir of Slytherin, although not identified to the student body, was captured, all felt at peace in the castle once more. All, that is, except for Harry and the massive amount of brooding he had started ever since the same announcement.

It seemed that the boy had fallen into an almost depression, nearly silent as he walked around the castle after their exams, lost in his own little world and barely speaking with anyone, Hermione included. And from what she noted, it was the same with his friends in Slytherin, although they seemed to understand what was going on slightly more than she, and had not grown concerned or approached him. She had, multiple times, and had been rebuffed with the ever stated, 'I'm fine,' or other deflections that clearly indicated some sort of deeper problem.

So, one morning in the weeks before the leaving feast, she did something unprecedented to everyone in Gryffindor house for living memory. She stood shortly after she finished her food, and approached the Slytherin table, all eyes on both houses turning to her when they realized her destination.

She walked right up to Draco Malfoy, who was chatting quietly with his friends, the same group of Slytherin Second years that were usually so friendly with Harry, and waited for him to acknowledge her.

"Can I help you, Granger?" he asked as he turned to face her. She pleasantly recognized that there was no sneer on his face, and those around him weren't muttering under their breath, just watching her with a quiet contemplation.

"Yes, possibly, Draco…" she said softly, "I had wondered if you knew a bit more regarding a certain mutual friends of ours, and more pointedly, the current mood that he is in…"

Draco nodded slowly, eyes flickering to the Ravenclaw table, "He's skipping meals now it seems," he said slowly, before gesturing for the boy next to him, Vincent Crabbe, to move aside and make room for Hermione to sit.

There seemed to be a near audible intake of breath from the Gryffindor side of the room as Hermione did so, sitting among those of their supposed 'rival' house. "What we do know," Draco said very softly, after Hermione noticed a few of them subtly wave their wands and a privacy field erect itself around them, "is that something happened between Potter and Dumbledore after they went down to the Chamber of Secrets. Apparently it's of the effect that Harry will not be leaving Hogwarts this summer, for whatever reason the Headmaster has…"

"That makes little sense," Hermione said, more to herself than the others, "Why would Professor Dumbledore be taking such a keen interest in Harry's personal life like that, is it really within his rights as the school Headmaster?"

"Loco parentis," one of the other boys, Hermione thought his name was Theodore Nott, said from the other side of Draco, "As Harry is an orphan, Dumbledore does have authority to act in a parental function as the student in question is a ward of the Ministry."

"Unless it goes further than that," a darker skinned boy across the table added, "And Dumbledore is Harry's magical guardian, then he is directly responsible for where and what Potter does both in and out of school."

"So there's literally nothing that he, or any of us, could do about it?" Hermione surmised.

"Pretty much, and I bet that he just wants to be alone, to plan out how he's going to deal with this…" Draco agreed, nodding.

"But what could he possibly do either?" Hermione questioned, confused.

"Remember, that wherever he was for those ten years, he was totally independent," Nott piped in again, leaning forward to look at Hermione around Draco, "He's used to doing what he wants, when he wants to, this is not something that Harry will take lying down. He's headstrong, and magically powerful, he will find a way to at least make a stand against Dumbledore's control."

"But if it's for Harry's safety…" Hermione countered, still unwilling to believe that Professor Dumbledore would do things to control Harry for reasons other than Harry's own good.

"Somehow, I'm inclined to believe that if that was the case, Potter wouldn't be having such a large problem with it." the other boy, Blaise Zabini, replied. Hermione had no rebuttal for that, as it sounded extremely like exactly how Harry would act.

"Perhaps you're right," she acquiesced, "If there wasn't so little time left before the summer holidays, I'd insist we try something, but if it is indeed Professor Dumbledore that is enforcing that Harry stay, I guess we can do nothing but make sure Harry knows were with him regardless."

She shifted for a moment, catching a glimpse of all the staring eyes from her own house table, and sighed, "I guess I better head back before someone at the Gryffindor table bursts a blood vessel or something…" she said sarcastically, which caused the Slytherins to snort in delight.

"Granger, I have to say, you far more interesting that I initially gave you credit for last year," Draco said sincerely, "I look forward to the rest of our time at Hogwarts, competing and collaborating as opportunity allows it…"

"Why, thank you Draco, I look forward to that as well," Hermione said, surprise mounting eve as she stood from the Slytherin table, and turned to rejoin the frowning faces of the Gryffindors, sitting among her fellow mages, who knew partially the reasons she had approached the Slytherins, and therefore didn't ask stupid questions or make accusations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was somewhat curious himself as to the conversation that had transpired between Draco and his friends and Miss Granger, especially since they had gone and broken the unspoken tradition of transcending House tables during a meal, but of greater concern to both him and Albus was the absence of Potter from the Ravenclaw Table for the third meal in a row. The Potions Master highly doubted that the boy was starving himself, but the lack of being in the public eye was worrisome, especially with the newly reaffirmed conflict between the boy and the Headmaster.

Fortunately, there were only so many places that the boy seemed to haunt, and Severus went immediately for the dungeon room where he had permitted Potter to set up his curious side projects, involving his odd variant of Potion-making and other things. He wasn't surprised to find the boy hard at work inside, doing at least three separate things at one time, but the small pile of dishes from the kitchen on a nearby desk were at least reassuring that the boy was not allowing himself to go hungry in the turmoil of his work.

Severus did nothing to interfere or interrupt, knowing that much like his own Potions, some of these things might very well be unstable and require the boy's complete attention until they were safely finished, or put undo stasis before the boy could divert his attention further to communicate.

Only when the boy made a flourishing motion with his wand, sending the content of one of his two cauldron fly into the air and start filtering itself into a multitude of glass vials did he even acknowledge Severus, while still flicking his wand at the second to keep it stirring itself as he sat back at a desk with several metal rods, each with curious runs etched into them.

"Come to drag me back into public view as I've been to long by myself, then?" he asked hotly, grabbing a scrap of glowing cloth and slowly dragging a rod over it, and Severus watched as the cloth crumbled into a strange, purple dust what was carefully collected by the boy into a large sack.

"Not in the slightest, now that I know you are here and not off doing something that the Headmaster would frown upon," Severus said quickly, noting how the boy frowned angrily. It was not the normal angst anger of a teenager denied what they thought to be their personal life, but Severus had to admit it was a rather adult sort of frustration, from one used to the normal attributes of freedom of action, to suddenly be in a position of dependency, whether they wanted to admit it or not, and denial of certain presumed freedoms were bound to have a grating effect on one's patience.

"You're anger is both understood and justified," Severus admitted, peering at the boy as he returned to his cauldron, stirring a thick, yellow mixture with a near ferocious motion, "But the Headmaster is only doing what he feels is best for your welfare. There are a great many things in our world that you are just not ready to experience without help yet, let alone the muggle world beyond that."

"And how am I supposed to experience those things to understand, if I'm to spend all my time enclosed in this castle, without any contact with those whom I have already begun association with, merely because one old man things he knows better how to live my life than I do?" the boy snarled back, and Severus looked past the raging twelve year old to the pure kernel of truth within the words. Treating Potter as though he was in Slytherin helped a great deal apparently, with tolerating his idiosyncrasies.

"It is not ideal, that is true," Severus responded, not meeting the boy's comment where Potter probably wanted, but hitting the mark regardless, "but there are many other ways for you to go about learning about our world, especially with all the time you lost with wherever it is that you were all this time. well adjusted though you may have become to this school, it does truly pale in comparison to everything else out there, and we'd feel more confident if you were more aware of the laws and regulations that were in place for how we are to behave, especially around those who do not possess magic."

This was a viably concern of Severus', which was why he agreed with Albus on keeping the boy in the castle. It was clear that the boy had no qualms about using magic when he pleased, and flouting the statute of secrecy was no laughing matter, ever.

"Hmph," the boy grunted, "I do not have time for this sort of useless delay. There is much work to be done and time is running out…" but what the boy meant by that, Severus didn't know.


	27. C26: Prison Break

**Many thanks to those who reviewed, as my flow of ideas for writing have thusly been unhindered by lack of motivation. Many suggestions, ranging from quite humorous to insightful were given, and I am appreciative for them all. Enjoy the new section. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Six**

 **Prison Break**

Draco was quite unsurprised when he failed to find Harry on the train as it departed the Hogsmeade Station, but he was still disappointed regardless. He did not so much as fret per say, but he did find it concerning that the powerful warlock was still more than willing to allow Dumbledore to have his way, almost as though Harry feared what the old man might do. It was too eerily familiar to the rumors that he had heard regarding the Dark Lord and his age old fear of the Hogwart's Headmaster.

Draco barely paid any attention to those around him during the journey back to London, only snapping out of his musings when the train signaled that it had pulled into platform Nine and Three Quarters. The others made no inclination whether they noticed his mood, but as he departed from them and reached his parents on the platform, Draco knew that his father spotted the concern in his eyes instantly.

Without a word regarding it, the Malfoy patriarch escorted his family home, only giving token greetings to those families that were closely allied with his before they returned to the manor. Draco knew that his mother would want an in depth description of everything that had occurred during the now ended school year, but one exchanged glance with her husband and she walked away, knowing that father and son had something important to discuss outside of her presence.

They didn't even bother going into his father's study, which implied to Draco that Lucius suspected exactly what was on his son's mind. "Potter was restricted to the castle by Dumbledore, was he not?" the older man said without preamble, to which Draco could only nod.

"He has already made me aware of his plans, and when the time is right he will return to u on his owns," Lucius stated, which sparked Draco interest. It had all been part of a larger plan? "Actually, due to a few recent breakthroughs, he may be joining us far sooner than even he suspects…" Lucius continued, smirking openly.

"Why is that, father?" Draco asked, but Lucius merely shook his head.

"You will see soon enough, be satisfied to know that we have had to make several powerful upgrades to the wards to protect Potter when he does escape the castle, changes that will make it difficult, if not impossible for Dumbledore to come here and take him back." he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially. "This is new territory we're entering, and it's both frightening and thrilling to see the Malfoy family openly supporting a powerful figure like this boy. It brings back all the magnificence of the Dark Lord without the secrets and threats of the past. We will prosper, even if we must make a few sacrifices along the way. Always remember that."

Lucius then straightened up, and strode away with a small smile, leaving his son with more questions than answers. What were Harry and his father planning, and what did it have to do with the letter he had delivered to Harry back at Hogwarts just before the last few days of term?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus could feel the building up of rage throughout the entire castle. Gratefully, the majority of the Professors that would have any inclination of what was truly going on were away for their long deserved holiday, leaving just a bare skeleton of staff here to manage things over the summer. Severus had remained, as was his normal practice, but still, the magnitude of magical backlashes when Harry was in one of his new moods would be enough that even Sybill up in her tower ought to be able to feel it, although in her state she probably thought it was ill omen coming to her through her own abilities, despite their lackluster nature.

Albus knew that Harry had good reasons to be veritably upset, as he was much more literally being kept prisoner this time, but Albus had to do what was safe for not only the boy himself, but the rest of the world. And having a powerful wild card out roaming free wherever he pleased, and doing whatsoever he liked, was both irresponsible and downright foolish on Albus' part.

To take his mind off the current predicament that he had placed the castle in, Albus threw himself into studying the boy from every aspect that he had encountered up to the present, meaning much review of his own memories in the pensieve. He knew that there could have been something else that he might've missed during one of the many interactions he had with Harry, something that the boy had let slip, meaningless at the time, but not very much pronounced with the revelation of the breadth of his dark knowledge.

Again and again, Albus dove into the past, but frustratingly he continued to find little. More and more of the times that Harry fell silent seemed to add together, painting a picture of some unknown figure that he was intentionally shielding from Albus' scrutiny. Fallen away was the idealized picture of a Merlin taught Harry, wielding magic of the ancients, and what replaced it was something all too frightening and terrible to comprehend. Could it have been some Dark Lord that had found the boy, stealing the defeater of Voldemort to raise him to up supplant him as the most dangerous Dark Wizard of their century?

It seemed plausible, but like before rang with a clarion call of doubt that made everything shrouded in mystery and questions, ones that lacked answers from the most direct of means. Albus had just leaped into the memory of his first meeting with Harry, for about the fifth or sixth time, when he paused. Something odd came to his mind as he watched the pair of wizards communicate through written words in the air. While he now recognized the fiery green of dark magic that Harry used to write, it was the contents that had caught his attention, when first contacted in the Gaelic that had been so similar to his own language.

" _Who is Harry?_ " the counter question shot through Albus like a knife. At the time, he had felt the pain of loss that the boy had not known his own name, but had pressed on, too overjoyed at being able to communicate with him to think more on the actual words that had been said.

But now… if he had not been called by name, wherever he was, then who truly was Harry Potter? The boy seemed to have readily accepted his true name, but had admitted much later to the use of personas, especially when tricking the Tom Riddle that lived within Voldemort's diary. Had Harry merely allowed them to use his name, and adapted a new persona to fit their expectations, all the while keeping his true self shielded from their gaze. Had they fallen for the simplest of tricks, in seeing only what they had expected, or desperately wanted, to see?

Unfortunately, approaching Harry at this current moment was most unwise, as another spike of magic radiated through the castle as the soon-to-be teenager's rage peaked once again. All in all, Albus was pleased that his monitoring charm had not sounded the alarm that Dark Magic had been used yet, which was a good sign that Harry, or whatever name he used for himself, was staying in excellent control despite his anger.

Still, Albus hoped that the boy calmed down soon, within the week at least, so that he would have time to actually speak with the boy before the entire school launched into its yearly summer cleaning and reinforcement of the wards.

Not even laying the matter aside for the moment brought Albus any peace of mind, as there were still many unanswered questions regarding the moment, such as what Lucius was planning regarding the failure of the boy to arrive on the platform with his own son. It was clear that Harry, for lack of a more proper name, had indeed managed to sneak a letter through Albus' grip before the full lockdown upon his mail went in force, and the Pureblood knew that he wouldn't be receiving his expected guest, as the man made no fuss regarding it as of yet in the Ministry.

This was probably even more worrying than if Lucius had brought the matter before Fudge or the school governors, as it meant that he had partially expected it and had some sort of plan to get his way regardless. The only problem with that scenario was that Albus couldn't see how Lucius would expect to be able to reclaim Harry on his own, unless he was enlisted fellow free Death Eaters to assist him in some sort of operation.

Even that route was still fraught with peril, for them. Not only was Hogwarts well protected, but the ramifications legally would make even Lucius' overflowing vaults wither and die within a month. But then what were they up to? From what informants he had left in the Ministry, Albus knew that Lucius was meeting with many people regarding upgrades to his spacious manor house in Wiltshire, creating a powerful network of wards and defenses to secure the property to all but his expressly invited guests. Could he be planning for the return of Voldemort perhaps?

Albus doubted it. There was a reason that Lucius had jumped ship the first moment he had after Tom was presumably killed at Godric's Hollow. He had neither truly cared for his lord, nor the man's brutal tactics. In a sense, Albus had to concede that Lucius was a far better man than even Voldemort, after a fashion. The Malfoy family wouldn't be going out of their way to prepare for his return, and even when Tom did, he wouldn't find them the most faithful of his servants.

Maybe there was truth within this thought however Albus mused. Lucius could be reading the signs, and figuring that Voldemort was not as gone as he'd like him to be. Perhaps, just maybe, he was preparing his household for the inevitable return of the lord he despised to serve, so that they could hide out and withstand the summons that would no doubt be sent when Voldemort called for his slaves to return to him on their knees.

It was a long shot, but perhaps Albus had misjudged Lucius in that regard. Perhaps a few specifically worded letters were in order, to determine if Lucius would be willing to defect from Voldemort's side complete, and join the Order of the Phoenix as another spy. He would have Severus take care of that matter, as the Potions master was far closer to the Malfoys than Albus could ever hope to be.

He was startled out of his thoughts as a jolt of magic shot through his arm, coming from the monitor he had attached to Harry. Apparently the boy's patience had worn out, and he had used dark magic to destroy the charm utterly. It wouldn't matter, Albus had feared and therefore prepared for the eventuality that he would have to restrict the boy's magical ability for a time, until calm and control was learned. It was just good that it would hopefully not interfere with Harry's school work, although if he failed to prove himself trustworthy over the summer, Albus wasn't sure if he could in good conscious remove the block for the next school year.

Drawing the Elder Wand from his sleeve, just in case, Albus hurried to Ravenclaw Tower, where the blasts of angry magic had been taking place for weeks on end into the summer holiday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan had smiled as he spotted the Malfoy owl sitting on the windowsill of his dormitory one summer day. The bird had no message, but was in and of itself a message. Lucius was ready for his arrival whenever Nobu'tan was prepared to make his escape. He had been growing greatly restless, his anger and frustration at the situation creating literal explosions of magic into the leylines of the school, which he knew that Dumbledore could sense with ease.

Let the man think what he will, he would not be ready for what was about to happen this day. Working quickly, Nobu'tan gathered all his belongings and stowed them inside the multiple compartment trunk he had purchased, shrinking it to fit within his own pocket. He would have wanted to collect his other things down in the dungeons, but that would arouse too much suspicion if he suddenly came and took all of those as well, especially with Snape's charm on the door of the room telling him when Nobu'tan came and went.

It was little matter, as he had the important items from there on him at all times, his finished inks and potions, as well as his enchanting rod, so he could easily begin again at Malfoy Manor. Positioning himself at the door of Ravenclaw Tower, Nobu'tan checked the corridor to see if it was clear, and finding himself alone, acted in haste.

The charm was easily devoured by a burst of fel energy, and even as the signal sped to Dumbledore, Nobu'tan bolted for the hidden room to recover the cursed Diadem from within. Now that he was free of the monitor, he could take the object with little detection, aside from whatever dark magic had been placed upon it by Voldemort, but he would deal with that when the time was right. Locating the item quickly, Nobu'tan threw a sack over it, before shrinking it magically to join the trunk in his pocket.

He was only emerging from the corridor, a satisfied look on his face, when Dumbledore appeared between him and Ravenclaw Tower. Sensing it more than hearing the man, Nobu'tan was aware that Snape had taken up position behind him, supposedly blocking any escape down the corridor.

"I have to say I am impressed that you managed to control yourself thus far Harry…" Dumbledore said chidingly, as though to a small child. "But you know what I must do now that you purposely broke my charm with Dark Magic."

"And I suppose you have no idea about how that's not going to happen…" Nobu'tan responded with a smirk, even as he subtly build up his fel magic within himself, keeping it out of the air around him so that neither wizard could detect it before it was too late.

"Now now, Harry, you know that we cannot allow you to use such magic, especially when the students return next year, so it really is for the best." Dumbledore continued, but Nobu'tan had heard enough.

"No, I think not…" he said, still standing confidently, even as he sensed Snape starting to approach him from behind, perhaps for forcefully restrain him so that Dumbledore could perform his charm. He wouldn't allow them even that much. Shocking the pair of them, he thrust a hand out behind him and threw a jet of fel fire at the Potions Master. The man dodged, but the young warlock was already moving, unleashing demonic power to begin tearing open a hole in reality to permit his escape.

Dumbledore became a blur of motion as well, spells to incapacitate and bind flying from his wand in droves, but Nobu'tan summoned Quzkol with a flick of the wrist, and the little imp wove its own power to singe the flying bolts of magic right out of the air.

"What on earth is that?" Dumbledore said in surprise, eyes wide behind his spectacles as he watched the imp weave its tail around Nobu'tan arm and shoulder for support as he stood on his master.

"Something more than you can comprehend…" the warlock said sinisterly, even as his portal neared finishing. "I do have to thank you both though," Nobu'tan added to buy a few more moments, "my progress to complete the portals that will change this world forever would never have gotten as far without the advice that I received from those professors _not_ trying to manipulate me to their own ends…"

"Harry…" Dumbledore said, but even as he attempted to step closer, Quzkol fired a small fireball at his feet, halting the Headmaster in his tracks, "what are you?" he finished slowly.

"I suppose as battle lines have been drawn at last, some level of openness is to be expected…" Nobu'tan said, sliming as the portal formed, the shadowy hands pulling the tear wider so he could pass through it. "I am Nobu'tan, warlock of the Stormreaver clan, apprentice to the most powerful wielder of Black Magic in the many worlds, Gul'dan, Darkness Incarnate himself!"

And, leaving the pair of wizards with that small flare of information that would prove useless to them, Nobu'tan stepped into the rift, turning to watch as Dumbledore rushed toward him as the gateway sealed itself closed.

Smiling widely to himself, he glanced around the spacious entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, glad that there was no one present to betray his location to the old man as the portal collapsed. But now that he was here, he reached out to touch and gain a feel for the new wards and defenses. They were good, but severely incomplete to one who was trained in the Arcane and Fel arts.

"So, this is the new digs?" Quzkol commented as Nobu'tan carried him upon his shoulder up to the same room he had dwelt in previously. For some reason it seemed that the Malfoys were out of the house for a time, so the warlock had plenty of freedom to arrange his items. The house elves kept their distance, having already once been on the receiving end of his magic when they surprised him.

After that, he chose to wait for his hosts to return, as it would be rather impolite to start making changes to their defensive network without their consent… or at least their knowledge. The main parlor was a good place to relax and wait, with the imp having strict instructions to not destroy everything around them, which the creature obeyed with great reluctance.

Soon enough, although it was edging toward evening, the sharp sound of apparation was heard out in the entrance hall, followed by the voices of the three Malfoys. Another crack signaled the arrival of a house elf to its masters, followed by the muttering speak of the elf, probably announcing his previous arrival and current location.

And sure enough, not a few moments later, the three occupants of the house entered the parlor to see Nobu'tan there, seated in one of the large, wing-back leather chairs, Quzkol dancing about his ankles. "Lucius, Narcissa, Draco… pleasant evening I presume?" Nobu'tan said, nodding to each of them in greeting.

"Ah, Mr. Potter…" Narcissa said, concern flashing across her face as to how he had entered their home without their express permission, the same as Draco, although the latter was more in awe rather than surprised. Lucius, already aware of the abilities that Nobu'tan possessed to come and go as he pleased, merely nodded in return.

"I see your plans are already in motion." He said in response, silencing both his wife and son from whatever questions they may have had to ask.

"Indeed they have, Lucius," Nobu'tan said, "and I am pleased with the upgrades you have made with your defenses. As far as wizards are concerned, this place is heavily fortified, however. There are other ways, other magic that one could use to gain entry, such as myself for example, and I hope you do not mind if I personally add to the wards to block and mitigate the power that such talents could have in breaching you most noble home, especially if they seek me personally."

Narcissa looked extremely surprised at Nobu'tan, which was to make sense as she had been kept out of any and all conversations regarding his abilities or talents, but Lucius merely nodded. "Immediately, or can we wait till tomorrow?" was all he asked.

"We ought to be safe for one evening, while Dumbledore scrambles to figure out what exactly I did to escape his precious clutches." Nobu'tan permitted, understanding that the man probably had quite a bit to discuss with his wife regarding all of these developments. "Nevertheless, I will be adding some… security, to patrol the grounds for the night, just in case the old man is quicker on the uptake than I suspect."

Lucius said nothing, but Draco paled slightly at the implications that the simple sentence indicated. Without waiting, Nobu'tan rose from his chair and departed the room, pausing momentarily to partially bow to Narcissa as he exited the room, but the woman's eyes were upon the form of Quzkol the entire time.

None followed him as he exited the front door of the manor, stepping down into the spacious grounds. Gathering what magic he felt safe to use, and feeling that the wards would shield his casting from outside detections, the young human warlock set to his work, unleashing the newest form of servants that he could command: the Felguard.

From his portals poured impressively tall humanoids, all male in appearance, with heavy armor upon them and great two handed weapons in their hands. Cruel and destructive, the Felguard were the legions first line of soldiers, intended to hammer the front lines of their foes while other, more powerful demons bided their time for the right moment. Naturally, Nobu'tan had one bound servant of this breed of demon, but for the evening he wanted the extra protection, and while taxing on his magic reserves and strength, having a larger compliment of demons would be the edge they needed if anyone came calling.

Soon they would be a permanent feature of the Manor, but that hinged upon what spells and enchantments he could safely add to the ward stones once Lucius took Nobu'tan to them. as it was so late already, the young warlock took his leave once the Felguard were given their instructions, he chose to retire to his room and regain the energy that he had used in both escaping and summoning the protection roaming outside. There would be much more to do soon, and he needed to keep his strength high. With a small shudder, Nobu'tan realized that sweets would be ideal for assisting him very soon, regardless of how awful they tasted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius knew from the look in his wife's eye that he had quite a bit of explaining to do, although he was certain that she would approve of this alliance far more than she had to serving the Dark Lord. Narcissa had always been a true pureblood at heart, proud of her heritage and supportive of the ideals that the Dark Lord had spoken of, but she was also a strong member of the Black family, and there were ties to her relatives that extended deeper than even blood status could. Despite her own sister, Andromeda, marrying a muggleborn wizard, Narcissa still kept correspondence with her, cordially maintaining her love for her own kin. And as Nobu'tan was by blood their relative, through his own grandmother on the Potter side, Lucius was confident that he could convince Narcissa that this was a similar matter, with the added benefits to their family in particular.

Neither the Blacks nor the Malfoys ever had one so magically powerful among them of a blood relation. It was a moment of pride for them all, to watch as Nobu'tan rose to become a strong and terrible member of the Dark community, to rival even the Dark Lords of the past, and for Lucius to be on the very edge of that power, just meant all the more prestige for their family.

Naturally he made only the barest mention of the demons that the boy commanded, and nothing at all regarding the Legion or their ultimate designs for their world. Lucius would rather let that be an unfortunate accident when it occurred, rather than a looming dread for Narcissa as well, one that she would vehemently disagree with.

Still, their debate ran long into the night, and encompassed nearly the totality of what Lucius knew regarding the boy, and the involvement of the other ex-Death Eaters. That certainly pleased her to learn, as she had hardly agreed with their remaining loyal to the return of the Dark Lord when all presumed him to be dead and gone.

No, the real challenge was telling her only what was necessary regarding the plans that were set for the future, especially the acquisition of the artifacts that would open the massive gateway that Nobu'tan envisioned, and especially what dwelt beyond it. For the time, Lucius went with what the boy initially supplied him with, which was that it was a method for him to return to the world he was raised in, the one he felt comfortable in. Lucius also hinted that he was intently curious about such a place, for the boy to have become so powerful magically.

Thankfully, by the early hours of the morning, Narcissa seemed to accept what she was being told. She was still intently curious about some of the less clear points, but by and large her concerned were abated regarding the powers that Lucius and her own son were learning from Nobu'tan, and their motivations regarding such power.

However, Lucius felt that it was highly unlikely that Narcissa herself would become involved regarding the Fel magic, much as she had remained aloof of the activities of the Death Eaters. But that was merely more of the woman that Lucius had come to love with all his heart. She wanted to be there to support him in what he desired to accomplish, and that was enough for her.

Lucius felt somewhat refreshed the next day, despite a lack of actually sleep due to the discussion, but dutifully met with Nobu'tan once the morning meal had abated. "Show me to the ward stones," the warlock requested, after a brief explanation of what he desired to accomplish with them.

Lucius hadn't even bothered to hesitate. The fact that Nobu'tan himself was willing to strengthen the wards of their mutual home already placed the young warlock ahead of the Dark Lord, who had expected his servants to do everything for him, and punishing them if he was not satisfied.

Crossing the grounds to where each stone was hidden on the parameter of the wards, Lucius eyed with caution the large demons that patrolled the paths and kept a stern lookout in all directions. Impressed was an understatement, when there were close to a dozen of the hulking brutes on his property and Nobu'tan only looked mildly winded from maintaining their tethers for an entire night.

"As I suspected, Dumbledore is still reeling from my escape," Nobu'tan surmised, watching the ever lightening sky, "but that won't last long. He will come here first to try and seek me, and we must be ready to stop him and his Arcane magic."

Once they reached the location of the first stone, Lucius waved his wand in an intricate pattern, causing the outside hedge to part away, revealing a large, crystalline stone twice the size of a human head. The face of the stone was nearly covered in spiraling runes, faintly glowing as they powered the various spells that kept the manor protected.

Removing a small stylus-like instrument from his robes, Nobu'tan leaned forward to reach, and carefully started etching the orcish runes he desired into an open space on the stone. It was tedious work, and required a steady hand and precise etching, but the stone was malleable enough with all the magic within it to accept the small scratches and form the full runes based off of the language. Once the first lines were complete, Nobu'tan stowed away the tool for the next stone when he was finished, and placed both hands upon the ward stone before him, channeling fel energy into it, transforming all the runes upon its surface from glowing faintly blue to the green of demonic power. At once, a portal to the Nether erupted to life just inside the boundary of the wards, spilling out a quartet of Felhounds, along with a single hulking Felguard, who looking angrily down at the warlock who had summoned it.

"I bind you to this stone and this place, to serve in defense of the Legion's assets on this world." Nobu'tan ordered, gesturing at the grounds of the manor. "Any who come and attack the spells protecting this place are our enemies, and should be killed immediately."

The Felguard looked about for a long silent moment, before grunting in acceptance, kicking one of the hounds that was edging too close to Nobu'tan as he stomped away to examine the boarders on his new territory on the massive hoofed legs.

Repeating the process around the edges of the grounds, Nobu'tan transformed the ward schematic of Malfoy Manor completely. While the leylines still assisted in powering the wards, as before, they now drew most of their energy directly from the Twisting Nether, along with maintaining the spells keeping nearly a dozen Felguard and four times their number in hounds as physical security.

Nobu'tan would have tried to do more, but even he had his limits on what he felt safe to attempt to summon at this moment, so he dared not push his luck and wind up with something out of his control. Besides, he and Lucius had so much more they needed to plan, and the morning was already spent upgrading the wards to keep Dumbledore and his minions out of their way.

Returning inside the manor, Nobu'tan quickly washed and had a small lunch to revitalize his energy, before retiring to Lucius' study with the Malfoy patriarch. "So, that's our protection set in place then," the man began as he closed and locked the door via magic.

"Indeed, now we can plan our next move without fear of reprisal before we are ready." Nobu'tan agreed.

"I believe I have located several possible vaults within the Department of Mysteries that may contain the Grimoire we seek." Lucius stated, looking pleased with himself.

"Good, very good, but I have one better," Nobu'tan countered, pulling from his robes a silken cloth bag, within which he had wrapped the Diadem of Ravenclaw. To say that Lucius was surprised to see one of the artifacts they needed was an understatement. "Astounding…" he breathed, standing and leaning forward to get a closer look. "To think that I have the pleasure of seeing the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw… but… something feels off about it…"

"From what I've learned, it's cursed with some form of Dark Magic, something soul based if I am not mistaken," Nobu'tan explained, "It reminds me strongly of the diary that cause all the havoc regarding the Chamber of Secret this previous year. Would you happen to know anything regarding that or how I may have come to the school?"

The question was one of innocent curiosity, but Nobu'tan narrowed his eyes when Lucius flinched as though struck. "S-soul magic?" he asked, and for the first time Nobu'tan heard the immaculate man stutter, "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure…" the young warlock replied, growing more suspicious, "…is there something regarding this business that you are keeping from me Lucius?"

"I may have had a hand in… depositing, the diary onto Arthur Weasley's daughter," the Malfoy Lord admitted, as though it were a mistake anyone could have made.

Nobu'tan merely shrugged, "Well, she lives, and you were not blamed, so I care not. What was more, it gave me incredible insight for when I found this, so I think I know how I can remove the curses without damaging the Diadem, which is all well and good, as we need it to summon the Legion. Do you have a safe location that we can keep it hidden after it is cleansed?"

"I have several vaults around the Manor, but the one in the basement is the most secure." Lucius replied, watching as Nobu'tan hand's started to glow.

"Good," the young warlock replied, even as he proceeded to seek out and tear the fragment of soul that inhabited the Diadem. As he suspected, there was a partial fragment imbedded within the artifact, and as it was removed, metaphorically kicking and screaming, several pieces of a much larger puzzle started to come together.

"I believe," Nobu'tan started, even as the partial shard formed in his hand, "that that has done it. But I wonder." Taking out the shard from the diary, Lucius and the orc-raised human watched in fascination as the two shard pieces fused together, still incomplete but substantially larger than before.

"What does this mean?" Lucius asked, puzzled.

"Whomever's soul was in the diary also had secreted a piece within the Diadem." Nobu'tan replied, pocketing the larger shard and examining the Ravenclaw artifact once more, to make sure all danger was removed from it. "I suspect that Voldemort had intended for these to be his means of attaining supposed immortality."

Lucius look stunned, and suddenly very afraid, "So he is still alive, then."

"Highly likely, as these shards indicate that there is still more of his soul out there to claim. I highly doubt that he will pose that much of a threat, but finding his other soul containers might be a useful distraction if Dumbledore starts to get too far into our business…"

"I'd've never thought that I'd end up using the Dark Lord as a distraction for Dumbledore…" Lucius said thoughtfully, "I am most relieved that I seem to have chosen the best side of this new conflict."

"There is never a 'best' side," Nobu'tan countered, setting down the Diadem with a satisfied smile on his face; the item was clean, "only the one with the least to lose when they win…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus could see Albus reeling, even a day after Potter literally broke out of Hogwarts. Severus personally thought that they needed to start searching for wherever the boy had fled to, but Albus had been in shock at the wave of Dark Magic that had come when the boy created his standing portal to escape through.

Even now, watching the old man bore a hole through the carpet of his office, Severus could tell that the Headmaster was worried about the level of magic that Harry used first and foremost. "How could I have not realized how powerful he was Severus?" Albus asked suddenly, and the Potions Master could do nothing but shrug.

"Potter seems to have developed a keen sense of priority, and made hiding himself the top one." He answered directly, which didn't help the old man, but was truthful.

"Nobu'tan…" Albus corrected, and Severus looked at him questioningly.

"His name is Nobu'tan, he said so himself. It was the key clue that I missed, which lead to this entire mess… it is a word I have never encountered, which would have clearly pointed that Harry had somehow been transported to somewhere not of this world…"Albus explained, which only made Severus' head spin more.

"How is that even possible?" he demanded, but the old man had no answers for him.

"All the answers lie with Nobu'tan… and we must discover them, for I greatly fear that if I was mistaken about something as simple as a child's level of magical power, how much more have I misjudged about him?" Albus said, shaking his head.

"Then we need to start searching for him immediately," Severus insisted, but the old man infuriatingly shook his head again, never halting in his pacing.

"He will already be behind the newly warded Malfoy Manor defenses, plotting who knows what as his next move. This was no defiant act of an angry teenager Severus, it was calculated, and there was a reason that Nobu'tan allowed us to keep him that extra time into the summer. I bet anything that it was intently for the purpose of giving Lucius the time to prepare a stronghold for them, once he chose to leave."

"Then let me go, I can get into Malfoy Manor and spy out what is going on…" Severus insisted. They had to be doing something.

"It wouldn't work. Nobu'tan knows that you work for me, and he will inevitably tell Lucius, if the man doesn't know already." Albus cut across him.

"Then we can do nothing?" Severus said, throwing his hands up and dropping heavily into his seat. "We just wait for the boy to do whatever he's planning to next?"

"Goodness no," Albus said, almost angry at Severus' frustration, "We need the old crowd gathered, the Order of the Phoenix will be a great asset to help monitor the Wizarding World if this new threat becomes fully realized, afterward we need to start spreading the knowledge of the Arcane arts to those we can trust, Alastor would be my first choice, as he has the diligence to make full use of it."

Severus shuddered. The thought of Mad-Eye Moody with the powers of the Arcane at his beck and call was indeed a frightening thought. "Then, after I am sure Alastor has a firm grasp of the magic, we will send him to hunt for Nobu'tan, his experience in catching Dark Wizards is second to none, and I have full confidence that, should the boy set foot out of Malfoy Manor, Alastor can find him. I will be sending some letters and Patroni to this effect. Severus I think you would be best in trying to find out what the other old supporters of Voldemort are doing."

This, Severus could understand and saw the wisdom in. Lucius had been their leader, and is his allegiances shifted to Potter, then the others may be open to a new arrangement, perhaps increasing the number of the spies should the Dark Lord return again. "I'll get to it immediately," Severus said, turning to depart just as Albus called him back.

"Severus…" he turned, frowning at the tone that Albus had used, heavy with concern and wariness. "Be careful, the others may have followed Lucius to the boy, and if they did its highly likely that they are learning his Dark Magic to bolster their own. That creature he brought to this world. I fear it and its kind greatly. That one small thing alone was made purely of Dark Magic, and even something more, a wild and chaotic energy that I have never seen before. I need to search through the Prince family library, as well as my own, to see if there is anything that could shed light on this matter."

"I understand, Albus…" Severus replied, departing moments later when the old man bent over his desk and picked up a quill to begin writing his letter. Severus was worried; he had never seen Dumbledore this frazzled, not once in his entire life of knowing the man, whether as teacher, adversary or now as mentor.

Did it truly mean that the threat Potter poised was so much more than even Voldemort to Albus' mind? Or was it more that it was a deep and hurting betrayal? Regardless, Severus chose to take the man's advice, and tread cautiously as he went about approaching the other freed Death Eaters, the ones he knew of at least, and asked them about Lucius' movements as of late.

One by one, he grew more and more worried, as each of them, including the infamously lose lipped Crabbe and Goyle Sr. stated bluntly that they knew little of what the man was up to, while giving off the air that Severus was most unwelcome among them. Reading between the lines, Severus knew the truth. They were all in on this together, working with or even for Potter to some unknown but likely nefarious end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The North Sea raged, wind and waves splashing across the choppy surface as the sky darkened with more than just clouds. To muggles it would appear that a flash storm had brewed over the mysterious and large body of water, but to a wizard's eyes, they would see the truth.

Azkaban, the old fortress of a mad wizard turned impenetrable prison was reeling, the ghastly guards taking to the air as they screamed their fury to the four winds. Something had happened that was until now unheard of for the wraiths of that foul island. One of their prisoners had escaped.

Far to the southeast, on the icy bank of the seaside, a figure was hurrying out of the water, shivering with the cold of the sea air and too tired to even shake the water from his fur. A massive canine, resembling a Grim right out of the fabled lore, waded through the shallows, looking for somewhere sheltered and dry so that he could recover from not only the effects of the icy water, but the madness that he had just fled.

Sirius Black stumbled into human shape once he found something, a small hollow between some rocks that offered protection from the wind and water. He could rest here for only a short while, before he had to keep moving. He was far too close to the prison and their dreaded keepers, and he would not allow himself to be caught again so soon.

He had, through a merciful circumstance, come to learn a terrible truth. "He's at Hogwarts…" he muttered through dry and cracked lipped, listing momentarily into the best sleep he had felt in over twelve years. There would be time for what was needed when he reached the Scottish highlands, and if his memory served him anything, Harry should be there as well, and whether the cause for his parents death or not, Sirius would fulfill his duty as godfather.


	28. C27: Form and Sunder

**Many thanks to those that review. For those concerned about a return to Azeroth, worry not, it is all part of the plan, and there is FAR more of the story that will progress once that event occurs. We just need patience to set the stage for that happy event to happen. Meanwhile, enjoy... ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Seven**

 **Form and Sunder**

Draenor… the red world…

In all his life Archmage Khadgar had never seen such a place so dead and separated from any vestibules of green or beauty, including the vast wastes of the Deadwind Pass. Something terrible and powerful had happened on this world, and it was up to the Sons of Lothar to make sure that the threats of the Horde and the evils that allowed the Dark Portal to exist be stopped once and for all.

After the rift had reopened, orcs had come back through to Azeroth, stealing legendary artifacts from Dalaran and other great places of learning; ones that caused chills to creep down Khadgar's spine when he learned of their thefts. The Eye of Dalaran, the Book of Medivh, and some sort of jeweled scepter from the very tomb of the Demon Lord Sargeras, all had fallen into the hands of an orcish shaman named Ner'zhul, and had been used to rip apart the fabric of space and time, opening many portals across the wastelands of the Hellfire Peninsula.

The orcs had retreated through these portals, but left a great many number of clans to deal with the invasion force that had come from Azeroth to stop them, and thankfully many of these artifacts were now in Khadgar's possession. The book and the Eye had been safely recovered, as well as an orcish skull that brimmed with fel magic.

It didn't take much for Khadgar to discover that this was indeed the skull of the very orc warlock that had opened the Dark Portal to begin with: Gul'dan. Throughout their time in the world of Draenor, Khadgar had searched for any sign of other humans, or the boy Tobias Banu, but it seemed that the boy had never come from this place, nor set foot on this red world, as the few captives that managed to acquired had no knowledge of humans outside of the sons of Lothar.

So, it was with a heavy heart that the Archmage prepared for the ritual that they had set out on this expedition to do, seal the Dark Portal, and the rift binding the two worlds together, forever. Turalyon, as leader of the Alliance forces, had sent back as many of their soldiers to Azeroth as he could; only keeping those who willingly would fight to defend Khadgar as he closed the portal. Time was precious, and the Horde was bearing down on them even as he set out the book of Medivh.

Holding aloft the greatstaff of Medivh, Atiesh, as well as the Skull of Gul'dan, Khadgar began the incantations. Once the portal began to collapse, there would be little time for them all to get to safety, as the world around them was ripping itself apart.

The sounds of a terrible battle surrounded the massive dais that the portal was built upon, as Horde and Alliance forces clashed for what the Archmage hoped was the final time. Once the incantation completed, Khadgar watched as the massive swirling energies within the portal started to wither away, and with his remaining strength he took up the Book of Medivh and the Eye of Dalaran, and hurled them through the collapsing rift. So long as these artifacts reached Azeroth, and were safely away from the Skull of Gul'dan, then the portal could never again be opened.

Abandoning his place before the now empty portal, as well as taking up the Greatstaff and skull of his long hated foe, Khadgar yelled to the warriors around him. "We must get to one of the rifts, before the world beneath us gives way and is destroyed!"

Elven rangers nodded, nocking arrows lit with chemicals to light signals to the rest of the waning army of defenders. The signals flew through the air, and as one the Alliance army abandoned the battle, surging across the dead landscape toward the nearest of the many portals that the crazed orc Shaman had unleashed on this world. To remain here was certain death, and to go through one at random, while undesirable, was at least a chance at survival.

Volcanoes sprung to life as the tectonic plates holding Draenor together started to separate, fel and arcane energies exploding in the atmosphere as warrior after warrior, urged on by their leaders and friends, ran through the rift. Alleria, Turalyon, Danath, and Kurdran all made it through, and Khadgar waited a brief moment to watch the collapsing world behind them, before he too stepped through the portal into the unknown. Something, at the last moment struck his side, and he turned to see the Skull of Gul'dan tumbling away as he was pulled into the swirling purple energies of the Void, sending it careening in another direction, away from him, but mercifully not back to Draenor.

If it was lost, so be it, better to never be found again than to be used by anyone. Khadgar embraced the unknown and pushed onward through the vortex of energy, somehow sensing that they had indeed made the right choice to flee this way from the ruined and dying world. He felt, satisfied with what he had done for the good of Azeroth. Whatever his fate was to be, he would accept it.

" _That is good, young Archmage…_ " sounded a voice sounding within his skull, sounding melodious and beautiful. Turning in surprise, Khadgar came face to… something, with a massive creature of pure radiant light. " _Do not be afraid, young mortal. I am known as A'dal, and I have come to assist you, by the will of the Light_."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan paused in his reading as he felt something strange surging through the Nether. It was as though a massive amount of energy had been drawn to one specific place in the cosmos, before suddenly being released with explosive force. Despite this, it was a long distance from the world he was on, but that only made it more puzzling that he could feel the draw on the powers of the Legion.

Still, it hardly made any difference to his circumstances; he had his goal to work towards, including gathering the other artifacts that he needed to bring the Legion to this world. the Diadem of Ravenclaw was safely stored in Lucius' vault, away from prying eyes, and the ex Death Eaters turned warlocks were now preparing for their infiltration of the Department of Mysteries to seek out the Grimoire of Merlin, which in turn seemed to be the key to seek the torque of Morgan le Faye. Sadly they still had no idea where to begin seeking the Elder Wand.

Still, Lucius was making the final preparations to smuggle Nobu'tan into the Ministry, under the watchful eyes of Dumbledore, who had been keeping an annoyingly close watch on the man's movements. It was readily apparent that the Headmaster correctly presumed that the orc-raised human was taking sanctuary from the pureblood lord, but little did the man truly realize.

Still, that did not mean that the young warlock allowed the old man to prevent him from going out of the manor and doing what he personally needed to prepare. So long as Dumbledore was focused on Lucius, Nobu'tan felt safe enough to slip out, in disguise, to visit Diagon and Knockturn Alley.

Now that he knew the strong direction he was working towards, he could start to gather allies that would be more helpful than just more warlocks. It was clear that the goblins of Gringotts had no fondness for their world, or the humans that inhabited it, and while they respected Nobu'tan for his values and the manner in which he was raised, there was still the question of what he could use that respect to gain from the warrior race.

Walking past the guards while maintaining eye contact was a good start in fostering the goblin's attention once more, but Nobu'tan was fairly sure that the runners of the wizarding bank had been expecting him for some time yet, as a goblin clerk approached him before he could make his way to the teller line. "Right this way, sir." The goblin said, casually gesturing to the rows of offices beyond one of the back doors.

"The Director is expecting you," the goblin said as they approached a large set of doors in the rear of the row of offices, and Nobu'tan only glanced at the goblin once before pushing open the indicated door and stepping through.

He had not made any guesses of what to expect, so when the cavernous room beyond came into view, he was unsurprised. Leave it to goblins to have an obstetrically ornate room right in the middle of a bank just for the purposes of their leader.

"So this is the famous and intriguing Harry Potter of which I've heard so much about?" a goblin voice said from the side of the room, where a large throne-like seat was planted before a large table, where five other goblins sat, all facing Nobu'tan as he had entered.

"Come, sit with us, I have heard it mention that you come with news and some sort of intriguing offer for our people." The goblin direction said, gesturing to the open seat, which was slightly larger for Nobu'tan's frame.

How the goblins knew of what he desired to speak of before he had ever entered their bank, Nobu'tan wasn't precisely sure, but he also felt that the goblins were at least willing to hear him out. Massive braziers burned above the meeting table; with fumes wafting gently downward, filling the room with various scents both pleasant and not so much.

Looking around the table, Nobu'tan took note that each of the other goblins seemed to be leaders in their own right, each clearly dressed in the garbs of their professions. Miner, craftsman, shaman, priest, and warrior all watched his every move, while the director peered down from his raised seat.

"I was not aware that I was expected, when I had made the decision to bring this offer to you." Nobu'tan admitted, wondering if they'd even address his concern, or if they even already knew what he wanted to say to them.

"That would be my doing," the shaman said, gazing well past Nobu'tan with a rather faraway stare, "the spirits whispered that there would be one who would come bringing destruction upon the wizards, and that we could be easily caught in the middle and ended unless we were observant."

"That was almost two years ago, shortly before you yourself stepped foot in this bank for the first time," the warrior added, shifting his metal clad form in his seat. "It was the only reason that our guards were on alert enough to even notice the difference that you presented when you interacted with us."

"And we were quick to seize that opportunity, and give assistance where we could for you, Mr. Potter," the priest commented, her robes shifting slightly as the female goblin spoke, "and now those acts have come full circle."

"Yes," the director said, "Tell us what your offer is, so that we may know whether you are indeed the one our Farseers have foreseen."

The speech and flowery presentation that Nobu'tan had prepared was forgotten in a heartbeat. He had doubted that it would have worked anyway, but this level of directness could only be appreciated and returned in kind for their nation's respect. "I am a herald of woe and destruction, it is true. I seek to bring certain artifacts together that will usher in an annihilating force that will destroy this world, and all those upon it who do not serve."

"I have foreseen this of which you speak," the shaman said, and Nobu'tan realized that the creature was blind, the normally cunning eyes glossed over and grey. "The burning ones from the sky will rain upon the world and cover it with oppressive darkness."

"Yes, but there is a way to save your people, and not have to bend to the will of the Legion, completely…" Nobu'tan said.

"And that would be to join and aid you in bringing them to this world?" the director asked.

"Not something so drastic, aid me yes, but I have a better use for your nation that will take place far after the Legion has come." Nobu'tan corrected, "It has to do with the world that I came from; a place I seek to return to once my duty to the Legion here is completed."

"You wish the goblin nation to rally behind you as you enter this new world, as a force to help you with your other goals there, then?" the warrior asked.

"In a word, yes," Nobu'tan affirmed, "there would be many challenges, and the cunning wisdom and fighting prowess of your nation would be undisputable resources to me, and I can guarantee that, unlike here, the world I seek to go to has no oppression based upon race or purity of blood, at least not that prevails over the whole society."

"That is indeed something to consider." The director said, leaning in his throne, "it is no secret that we hold little regard for the world of the wizards and their nonmagical kin, but I place where the goblins could live as their own people, fully in the open and respected by others would be most appealing."

"I can also confirm that where I seek to go, goblins exist as a race already, so you wouldn't necessarily be out of the ordinary for others to see."

"Other goblins?" the priestess asked, "That would indeed be something we'd like to find out more about."

"I only met some a few times, but they largely resemble yourselves, physically and in mindset, although they have a distinct love for mechanical items and explosives that I have not seen here as of yet." Nobu'tan explained.

Still, he effectively had nothing more that he needed to say, as the goblins were now rapidly talking among themselves in their own language, either arguing the value of trusting him or determining how to best prepare for such a departure he did not know. Finally, they all turned back to face him once their conversation died away.

"We need more time to think on this matter, but we will most assuredly contact you in the future regarding such a proposition. To leave this place of oppression and find a new world in which to live would be quite appealing for most of our people, but not all."

"I respect your wisdom in considering all the options before making a final decision." Nobu'tan said with a small bow as he rose from his seat. "Shall I return at a later date to hear your decision, or should I just await your owl."

"It may take some time, but yes, we will contact you when we reach a united answer," the director said, summoning a goblin aide to lead Nobu'tan back to the lobby of the bank. Before the doors to the meeting room closed, Nobu'tan heard another bout of the goblin language explode behind him. They were indeed disputing the ramifications of an alliance with him; that much was for certain.

But he had time to wait for them to agree on a course of action, and even now there was more work to be done. Once outside the bank, Nobu'tan skillfully weaved his way through the crowd toward the little side street that housed the darker district of the marketplace. Most would not think to look for the famous Harry Potter there. In addition to that, there were things here that were not available to purchase anywhere else that he could teleport to, such as some of the rarer herbs that he needed for alchemy and inscription, both skills in which he was not instructing several of his followers. Enchanted was another animal altogether, and there were plenty of things that were otherwise useless bobble that he could acquire cheaply here in Knockturn that would be perfect for breaking down into raw magical components.

But first and foremost, Nobu'tan was looking for some appropriate attire for his debut as the warlock who assaulted the Department of Mysteries, something that enhanced his power but kept his identity secreted, as well as some new focus that was not easily taken easily like a wizarding wand. While predominantly channeled through the physical body, both Arcane and Fel energies could be amplified through the use of an implement, such as a staff or wand, and it was the former that Nobu'tan hoped to find in this place.

Having fallen out of fashion sometime during in the Renaissance, staffs were something of an archaic viewing on how to channel wizard magic, but Nobu'tan was confident that he could find something that suited the appearance he hoped to foster among the populace to disguise his true identity.

Entering a shop that looked prominently interesting enough, the young warlock spread his awareness through the Nether, seeking some resonance with his own magic to find an appropriate conduit. There were several large rods, with jewels or flashy crystals along a wall, but these he ignored, they both drew too much attention and held little power. Pushing past a table laden down with wands and other smaller items, Nobu'tan briefly wondered why the shop had had no bell or other noticeable signal of the entry of a customer.

He was about to look for a shopkeeper, when he was distracted by a resonance of magic in the far corner of the room. Something there was strongly reacting to his presence, and that was worth inspecting over anything else. Passing a shelf filled with crystal orbs and other hand held items; he found a collection of unadorned staffs, more walking sticks than anything, but just as sensitive to magic as the other items in the room.

The warlock stretched out his hand, trying to sense which one was calling to him, and to his pleasant surprise one from the very back leapt to him, scattering the other staffs, which fell to the ground with a clatter. It was a rather short staff, only coming to Nobu'tan's shoulder in height, and was rather gnarled, giving a rather old appearance with the twisted knot as its head. But still, it would channel his power readily, and therefore was exactly what the warlock sought.

Only once he turned with his selection to face the counter did Nobu'tan find a worker for the shop, who was giving the young orc-raised human all the time he needed to find what he wanted. "Your price?" Nobu'tan requested.

"For that undecorated stick," the older gentlemen responded, "ten galleons."

An exaggerated price, to be sure, but Nobu'tan cared little for the gold of this world, and dropped the coins on the counter as he passed it toward the door. The largest item of importance had been acquired, which reinforced the warlock's confidence that this side street held the other things he needed. While the main clothier stores of the main alley were always busy and held only the casual style that was worn by wizards these days, the older, less frequented places of Knockturn held onto some of the older styles that had long since gone out of fashion.

It was to one of these that Nobu'tan went to next, looking through the shadier of their articles until he found a style that matched what he sought. Concealing, with large shoulders and a deep hood to cast the illusion of a far older person, but the color was rather ill placed, a faded sort of crimson. He brought it up to the proprietor regardless. "This is close to what I'm looking for, but the color needs work," he said, implying what he desired.

The shopkeeper understood, and shutting the door with a wave of her wand, beckoned Nobu'tan to a back room, where a small stool stood in the center with several mirrors at various angles. The waved her hand at a chair for him to set aside his things, and levitated the robes into the air for an example. Once Nobu'tan took his place on the stool, fabric came out of the back part of the store, and he ran through a list of what color he sought, primarily blacks and grays, although he had some difficulty deciding between red or purple for the accent.

Before long it was finished, with even a few embellishments on the part of the clothier that Nobu'tan had to admit were rather well thought out, decorating the shoulder area with snakeskin leather from several darker colored species. It tripled the price, but for what he needed appearance was going to be everything.

Deciding to actually wear the item out rather than carry it, Nobu'tan felt himself starting to fall into the role he was preparing to create. All that was left was to acquire several baubles to make his deception seem authentic enough, and he would be quite able to fool even the most astute of Aurors that he may encounter in the Ministry.

The final shop to meet these needs, Borgin and Burkes, was highly recommended by Lucius as the place to buy and sell all assortments of dark artifacts, and the tingle of magic as he entered the shop was indeed as Nobu'tan had been lead to expect. The white hair man behind the counter nodded as Nobu'tan entered, unable to see that it was a child he addressed. "Welcome sir, buying or selling today?"

Nobu'tan whispered a near inaudible spell to alter his voice, deepening and adding a gravely tone that strongly reminded him of Gul'dan's low rumble before responding, "I come under recommendation by Lucius Malfoy…"

"Oh, I quite understand, carry on then. I'll be here if you require assistance," the man said sharply, backing off and allowing the warlock to examine the shop at his leisure. For Lucius' advice, Nobu'tan was most grateful. The man had warned that either shop owner would be relentless in trying to pawn off some useless item unless he was cowed into submission, and naming Lucius as a confidant was nearly as good as threatening them most of the time.

Bypassing those items that were particularly useless, or downright dangerous, Nobu'tan levitated a few small or flashy items that would be useful in either his pursuit of enchanting or otherwise decorating this new attire that he had secured for himself. A particularly large grimoire of dark magic, set with chains to hang from the belt was added with a trio of small skulls, a jeweled ring and several darker crystals on the front counter.

Once glance told Nobu'tan that the owner of the shop was already calculating how much he could try to up sell him with these purchases, but there was little that he could attempt to sway over the warlock. The orc-raised human understood the magical value of these items, even if the other man did not, and he would not be easily fooled. Would he pay a fair price, probably not, but it wouldn't be nearly as high as what Borgin, or possibly Burke, was currently thinking.

When he was finally finished perusing the dark and dusty shop, he approached counter, and the small pile of items that he would be taking, the old man's eye practically shining. "Is that all you're looking at today, sir. I've taken the liberty of quoting a handsome…"

"Half…" Nobu'tan interrupted, cutting off the man's start of a sales pitch.

"I beg your pardon?" the man asked, narrowing his eyes. Oh, he knew exactly what Nobu'tan meant, he was just trying to play it off as a misunderstanding.

"Whatever ridicules price you're about to mention, I'll only pay you half, and it's still giving you a large benefit over what these are really worth," Nobu'tan repeated, sweeping his arm over the counter.

"Now see here!" the man protested, and Nobu'tan sighed, "I have it on good authority that these items…"

"Silence!" the warlock thundered, "You know nothing concerning these items aside from how much gold they could fetch your worthless hide. I know your tells, they're as plain to see as Lucius mentioned. Half; or I will make you regret crossing me and take them regardless."

The threat worked, and the shop owner deflated, nodding with nothing but contempt in his eyes as he rattled off a significantly smaller number than he clearly had wanted. Nobu'tan counted out the gold in front of him, before dropping the coins into a purse and tossing it uncaringly onto the counter, taking great care to place each and every item where he wanted it on his person, or away in the deep pockets or pouches of his robe and cloak for later use.

The only think lacking were the enchantments he had yet to place upon all these items, and the useless baubles would assist greatly in that endeavor, providing the essence of magic and dust residue that were readily consumed to imprint more magic onto existing things. Nobu'tan was almost certain that this skill was unique to Azeroth, and these humans had no idea about this form of enchanting. It may have had something to do with the presence of true elves in Azeroth, rather than the runt-like creatures that these wizards considered elves.

Exiting the shop before the man decided to regain his backbone, Nobu'tan started toward a secluded place he could teleport back to Malfoy Manor. Most figures spotted him immediately, and fled his presence, seeing a figure of great power and appropriately striking intimidation, exactly as Nobu'tan had constructed the physical illusion.

Only, there were some that it seemed to only attract. Around the corner from the main alleyway, a trio of wizards robed in bright red, their Ministry symbols gleaming on their chest appeared, talking loudly and almost bored as they crossed through the darkening streets.

That was, until they spotted Nobu'tan. "Hey you!" one called, sounding almost alarmed and annoyed at the same time.

The warlock did not flee, he was no coward. These fools couldn't stand a chance against him if it came to a fight, but he would give them one chance to depart without angering him. squaring his shoulders, Nobu'tan rose to his full height, which while not terribly impressive to the full grown adult wizards, was still more than they probably had expected from the seemingly old man they were approaching.

"We're going to have to check you for dark artifacts sir, please surrender your wand." One of the Aurors commanded, reaching out expectantly, as though he presumed that Nobu'tan would simply comply.

Utilizing the same voice as in the antique shop, Nobu'tan replied, swatting the offending hand away, "You will do no such thing."

Predictably, the men were not used to outright rejection when their authority was defied, and for a fraction of a second were stunned, which Nobu'tan used to his advantage, channeling a large amount of fel magic into the staff he held, just as the Aurors started attempting to bark orders at him.

"Leave me in peace, if you value your lives…" Nobu'tan said calmly, still building his power.

"Or you'll what, old man?" one of the younger officers, clearly the rookie of the group, taunted.

"One…" Nobu'tan said plainly, stepping back slightly into a perfect fighting stance from his old days of being beaten around the sparring ring with the other orc children.

"You think you can intimidate us, we're under authority of the Minister of Magic," another blustered, but it seemed that the oldest of the three, at least in experience, was growing wary of the 'old man' they were accosting.

"Two…" Nobu'tan continued, subtly drawing back a hand so he could channel whatever spell he needed.

"Sir we need your hands in the air, you're under arrest for suspicion of possessing dark artifacts," the middle Auror continued, but Nobu'tan had had enough.

"Three!" he snarled, reaching forward to physically touch the youngest Auror, unleashing fel fire directly into the young man's face. The young man, probably barely out of his teenage years, screamed in agony as the fire scorched his face and eyes, crumpling to the ground even as his wiser comrades reacted.

The oldest drew his wand in a flash, but the explosive power that launched from Nobu'tan's staff was such that the Auror went flying with a devastating crunch against the wall of a building. The third, and mouthiest of the three, managed to fire off a spell, the reddish bolt striking hard against the shield that Nobu'tan raised with only a thought.

It took only moments for Nobu'tan to know exactly what punishment to inflict upon this one, and a concussive explosion stopped the man from fleeing when he glimpsed the red eyes under the hood of Nobu'tan's robe. The Auror staggered, stunned even as Nobu'tan swiftly reached through the void, calling multiple unbound imps to his side, which appeared in a blaze of fel fire.

"Tear him limb from limb," the warlock commanded, and howling and giggling the imps obeyed, even as the Auror's screams echoed through the Alleyway. The small handful of people that had peered out of windows and from behind shop doors quickly vanished as the demons went about their work.

Meanwhile, Nobu'tan set his focus on the other two Aurors, making sure that they were quite dead with a large dagger that he had brought with him. Obviously they had little on their persons that interested him, and his time was limited due to the screams before someone more came to investigate, but those that would tell what he looked like had been silenced, and making a quick choice, Nobu'tan decided to allow the imps to dissipate when their magical tethers to this world expired, and departed.

He crossed to a small dead end section of the side street, which had access for few onlookers, and quickly set about the now quite familiar gestures for a fleeting portal to Malfoy Manor. Lucius would probably be displeased that violence had occurred while Nobu'tan was out, but it was not as though the younger warlock answered to the pureblood, and it would aid them by distracting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for a time, giving them more opportunity to infiltrate the Ministry itself.

Stepping through to the cool and calm entrance hall of the Manor, Nobu'tan allowed the portal to close behind him, and threw back his hood, straightening to his correct height and walking normally. There was no need for disguise within this magical equivalent of a fortress. The demons he had been able to call forth and bind to the outer parameter were doing their jobs quite efficiently, and had learned quickly what they were not allowed to interfere with, especially when something as small as a house elf had banished one across the grounds when the hulking demon attempted to smash several rose bushes that were in its way.

Most of the warlocks were present in the Manor at this time, all working tirelessly to become stronger in their chosen paths. It had actually quite amused Nobu'tan when he realized what a diverse selection they had come to all on their own. Of the twelve that formed this group of warlocks, only a third had chosen to study the arts of affliction, Draco, his father Lucius, one of the ex-Death Eaters named Atonin Dolohov, and Blaise Zabini.

Another set of four, Crabbe and Goyle, both Sr. and Jr., had gravitated almost naturally to the raw chaos of destruction, bending flames to their will and creating devastating blasts of pure Fel magic.

And of the remaining four, there was even a subdivision. These four, Walden Macnair, Yaxley, Theodore and his father, had all chosen to study the nature of demons further, but only three of these had stopped at the arts of summoning many demons and bending them to their will. Yaxley however, had progressed even farther, to the point of transforming himself into a demon temporarily, much as Nobu'tan had on several occasions, and channeling the terrible power that came with it.

They all were progressing quite well, even without constant direction from Nobu'tan. He had learned much about, and even from the current and former Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were far more intelligent than they behavior at school would betray. They were simply the strong, silent type that would resort to physical demonstrations of power if need be. It was easy for them to latch onto a strong leader like Draco, much like their fathers had with Lucius, and even if they weren't exactly friends, they were at least close comrades in arms.

It was something that Nobu'tan remembered from the relationship between Gul'dan and Cho'gall, the massive ogre not overwhelmingly needing the tutelage or approval of Gul'dan, but taking the ease of command off of himself by allowing the cunning orc warlock to take the lead, and simply follow, although the same could not be said regarding during the secret meetings of the Shadow Council, which Nobu'tan had been privileged to attend only a single time, before the Horde was too dispersed for the surviving members to convene.

The feelings of power that he had experienced there, at a young age, had stayed with him his entire life, and he yearned for the feeling that existed between the Chieftain of the Stormreavers and his underlings. It was understood between them all that Gul'dan was in charge, and his will absolute, but after that they had their own moments, each of them, to speak their minds and agendas, and together the Council would work to further their aims, or readjust if the particular plot was not completely for the good of their collective.

Nobu'tan had every intention of forming these, as well as the future warlocks that would come in the future, into a new order, one to herald and serve the Shadow Council when they were at last reunited with his master. It would be one whose name was whispered in fear and shadows, much like the name of Voldemort was currently, but Nobu'tan was wiser than that. Fear of one man only existed while that man was a threat alone, but the name of a collective would endure forever; as one could never be sure how many were a part of it.

He had already decided on some of the basic command structure, he would head a council of six, the leaders and most expert in the arts of Fel magic, and from them they would teach and seek out others who were worthy of learning the power of the Burning Legion. Of their current number, Nobu'tan already knew who he wanted as part of the council, if they accepted. He would not force anyone to rise above their station, if they chose not to, but once accepted the responsibility was to be placed heavily upon them, and he would not tolerate weakness.

Those practicing in the Malfoy dueling room stopped when he appeared in the doorway, and Nobu'tan could tell they were taking in the image from his robes and staff that he had gathered that day. From the lack of muttering or any comment whatsoever, the orc-raised human presumed that it was met favorably, but it mattered little whether their aesthetics were appeased with it. They were merely tools, and sigils of power, nothing more, and could be cast away in a heartbeat if something stronger was discovered.

Most were present, only Nott Sr., Macnair and Blaise Zabini absent from their number, and Nobu'tan nodded in greeting as he strode to the far side of the room, where several large tables had been set up for his use.

After departing Hogwarts, Nobu'tan had had to practically start his side practices over from scratch, but with the help of the various Purebloods and fellow warlocks, he had managed to lay hands on a larger supply than he ever had at Hogwarts. Of course, that had meant sharing far for information regarding the various arts with the others, which he had been less than desirous to do, as now he had apprentices in all three aspects as well, but that was about to be expected from such a revelation regarding magic.

Even as he approached, and casually set the magical disguise aside near to his enchanting rod, and those of Theodore and Dolohov, he could feel the intensity of the looks of awe upon the other two enchanters for the challenge of doing something more than just disenchanting useless magical trinkets into raw powder and magical essence. And it would prove to be an effective lesson for them, allowing them to actually put all their hard earned knowledge to use, assisted by Nobu'tan naturally, just in case so no mistakes were made.

"I trust everything went well on your trip into Diagon and Knockturn, Nobu'tan…" Lucius said, his ever neutral face expectant of information and answers.

"It was, overall. The goblins will debate over my offer of alliance for when our plans come to fruition, and I have every confidence that they will join us, and their forces and power will be sufficient to make a grand headway into locating the last of the artifacts." Nobu'tan replied.

"You said overall, what went wrong?" Yaxley piped up, and both he and Lucius exchanged a glance that told Nobu'tan that they were in a deep alliance to make sure that they as a whole succeeded, and that meant monitoring even Nobu'tan for signs of recklessness or weakness. While the young warlock approved of their diligence, it still infuriated him that they sought to control even their leader.

"Aurors tried to accost me in Knockturn after I acquired my disguise, luckily I was wearing it but they still tried to hinder me," Nobu'tan added with a shrug, "they're dead now."

As predicted, the whole group froze at the thought that their leader had killed so readily. "It will be fine," the powerful warlock reassured them, "all those who actually saw what I did were denizens of Knockturn, and therefore less than likely to speak concerning what they saw. And even if they do, I was wearing the disguise; it would not assist the investigation in any way as to my true identity.

"Still, it may be advantageous to avoid the alleys for a short while, and allow memories to fade for a bit before you go out to the wizarding marketplace again, at least until you need to meet with the goblins again." Lucius suggested, and the others started to nod in agreement.

"I see that I am outvoted in this, so I consent to the arrangement. However our mission to infiltrate the Ministry goes as planned. I will not allow fear to hinder our goals." Nobu'tan countered. "For this cause, I have decided that our group may need to, in time, expand to incorporate a large number of warlocks, and to that end we will need a structure of command, and an official title that we rally around."

"An order then, much like that which Dumbledore formed to fight the Dark Lord," Lucius summarized.

"Correct," Nobu'tan affirmed. "As with organizations of warlocks that I've experienced in the past, a name that people everywhere will fear to speak has been chosen, and a council of six to lead it. I, Nobu'tan, will be the first of the council. I have chosen that Draco Malfoy, the furthest in knowledge of the ways of the Fel magic, will be the second of the council, followed by his father, Lucius. Theodore will be the fourth, Yaxley the fifth, and Blaise Zabini the sixth."

The four present of the other five announced warlocks took steps forward, separating themselves from the others as they were recognized. If any took offense against so many of the younger children being selected as leaders, the choice of Lucius and Yaxley seemed to cool their worries. "The rest of you fall in order on seniority for positions if one of us falls in battle, accident or through our own folly." Nobu'tan explained, although the grim remaindered seemed to sit unwell with most of the other warlocks.

"And what of our name and symbol?" Goyle Sr. requested.

"Yes, a very important aspect," Nobu'tan agreed, "I put forth to the council, that on this day, we organize as one, to understand and master the powers of demons, and unleash them upon our unsuspecting foes. I declare that we be called, the Order of the Black Harvest, and our symbol be thus…" Nobu'tan flicked his wizard's wand at the air in front of him, and the symbol of a demonic skull appeared, a scythe positioned behind it while felfire leapt from both the blade and the skull's eyes, seeming to scorch to the very soul.

"All those of the council in agreement?" Draco announced, "Aye."

"Aye," added Lucius, Theodore, and Yaxley in order.

"It is agreed my majority," Nobu'tan declared, "we are now the Order of the Black Harvest, and we will prepare the way for our opening to a new world, and learning all the secrets of the demons we subject to our collective will." Nobu'tan declared. The motion was met with nothing of the roars of approval that an orcish clan would produce, but the silent acceptance of his fellow warlocks, even as they all returned to their tasks. With little else to do himself, Nobu'tan summon Theodore and Dolohov, and set to explaining what he desire to accomplish with the enchantments to his new disguise.


	29. C28: The Department of Mysteries

**Hurray, as of this chapter, we're breaking the 200k word mark, and still going! *Pops small party cracker* But what is even more impressive, is that we're rapidly approaching the same level of favorites and story alerts that are on my original 'most popular' story, PotDS, and we are eclipsing its sequel in all aspects, despite being nearly 100k words shorter. That is extremely impressive. Many thanks to all those who are making this possible with their words of encouragement and contribution via suggestion and speculation. To breaking personal records! ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Eight**

 **The Department of Mysteries**

Alastor Moody was not pleased to have been pulled from his retirement so soon to go back temporarily to work as a lead Auror, but when Amelia Bones explained the situation, it made the old scarred man's missing eye twinge in disgust, so that he could not refuse the woman.

The passage to Knockturn Alley was crawling with younger Aurors and their trainees, gathering what clues they could, and attempting to coax some witnesses out of the various buildings of the seedy area of the wizarding marketplace. Alastor knew a waste of time when he saw it, and barked at those trying to persuade the locals into doing something more productive, like helping preserve and cover the three Aurors that had been killed, and their bodies left here in the street like refuse.

For his part, Alastor scanned the area with his magical eyes, picking up details that he knew these rookies he had been saddled with would never see. There were auras of magic that he had never seen before, which Amelia had noticed as well when she herself had investigated, and was what prompted her in summoning him back from his cozy home and secluded life.

What the magic in the air appeared like, to him with his eye, was swirling clouds of acidic green that clung to every surface like a film of some putrid mold. The heaviest concentrations were upon the bodies, naturally, and left no doubt that it was Dark Magic of the vilest kind that killed the three Aurors. There were also magical scorch marks all over the ground that betrayed the nature of the magic that was used. But what it added up to scared Alastor more than anything he had ever encountered.

What daft Dark Wizard actually managed to learn how to perfectly control Fiendfyre, and could execute the cast in quick succession. Amelia might have turned to his expertise with hunting Dark Wizards, but even this was well beyond Alastor's pay grade. He could hear the other Aurors talking about him behind his back, even now. Mad-Eye they called him, but it didn't bother him. Better they be wary and fear him than anything else. Constant Vigilance was his motto, and his continued survival was proof that the adage worked.

"Right then," he shouted to the assembled Aurors, "pack everything up, we're leaving. Scour the magic from the area, I've seen everything that I need, and will be going to consult with higher ups regarding what to do next."

As the Aurors hurried to obey, Alastor stomped away on his wooden leg. Of all his injuries, this one pained him the most, serving as a constant reminder that even the very best couldn't afford to get complacent. And that was why, instead of the incompetent Ministry, Alastor apparated to Hogsmeade, to consult with Albus Dumbledore as to the possibilities behind this rise of Dark Magic, and speculate on the identity of who this Fiendfyre villain could possibly be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was highly unimpressed with the look of the seat of wizarding power, with its ridiculously hidden entrances, smuggled into the everyday appearances of the nonmagical communities. Foremost, the fact that such powerful magic users felt the need to hide from their nonmagical counterparts was insane, but not his problem.

Nobu'tan shifted his disguised and illusioned self as he followed Lucius Malfoy through the Atrium of the Ministry building, ignoring the slight stares that his black cloak and staff gathered. They needed to see that it was not the slim build of the thirteen year old Harry Potter that had come with Lucius, so that their planned escape later would go off smoothly.

Lucius bypassed the booth where wands were registered, and when the scrawny older teenager tried to stop Nobu'tan, he glowered down at the boy, eyes gleaming from beneath the dark hood. The teen quailed, falling back a step in surprise, and Nobu'tan chuckled at his fear. It was really true that none but he had ever laid eyes on a real living orc before.

Apparently the Ministry had no real idea what to do with him, so even the security guards hesitated, unable to say anything with Lucius Malfoy, one who held the Minister's ear, telling them to let his compatriot pass, and that they had important business in the courtrooms floors below, conveniently where the Department of Mysteries also lay.

"I still say we should have slipped in disguised as Unspeakables…" Lucius complained when they entered the empty lift, all passengers departing after one look at the young human warlock.

"Anonymity is my best tool and ally now, and if your Ministry is worth anything, they'd be on the lookout for people doing exactly that. This way they know of some sort of intrusion, but will never be able to find the source."

When they arrived at the correct floor, Nott Sr. and Walden Macnair joined with them, having already been in the Ministry since hours earlier, keeping watch.

"The floor is rather deserted," Nott reported, bowing his head slightly to both Lucius and Nobu'tan, "although I still sense magic being used within the Department itself."

"It is irrelevant," Nobu'tan said, waving his hand to cast similar illusions over the other three warlocks, giving them the appearance of variously featured orc warlocks from Azeroth. "Lead the way Lucius," Nobu'tan ordered once he was finished, and together the knot of now orcs turned toward a long corridor that ended at a solid black door.

Nott halted the group as the approached, "I sense wards going up on the far side of the door, I think they know we're coming."

"I though no one knew about this?!" Macnair said, glowering at Nobu'tan, "You promised that this would be done in secret."

"Plans change… We'll take the direct approach now, as they probably sensed our intent by the time you both entered the Ministry…" and he turned to face the door, gathering fire and shadows to himself.

Lucius flicked his hand, calling forth his imp minion, while the Macnair and Nott called forth Voidwalkers out of the shadows, where they stood like silent sentinels. Nobu'tan however, called out of the ranks of the Legion his personal Felguard, Ikzilgoril, and gestured at the relativly small door, when compared to the massive demonic warrior. "Break it down," he commanded, and the Felguard turned, raised his massive war axe, and charged the door with a roar of rage.

Enchanted or not, the portal caved immediately to the blunt force trauma of the legionaries' axe, scattering wood and chips of stone along the corridor. "Let's move," Nobu'tan ordered, leading the way as the Felguard stomped ahead, squeezing through the doorway into the chamber beyond. Once inside, the group of wizards turned warlocks were encountered with a ring of identical doors.

"Normally there'd be a trap here," Lucius explained, his imp trotting at his heels, "but with the exit door destroyed, I doubt that it would be able to activate perfectly."

"Which way to the Tome…" Nobu'tan questioned, but neither his companions, nor the room itself held any answers.

But what did occur in response was not completely unexpected either. From back toward the lifts out in the littered corridor, the rustling of robes was heard, and the warlocks, illusioned as orcs turned, even as a trio of Aurors hastily skidded to a halt, wands raised. "Halt intruders!" the lead one called. But Nobu'tan simply gestured at the pair of Voidwalkers, and after nods from their masters, the pair of ethereal demons surged out of the room, holding the rear as the Aurors cried out and shot spells at the charging creatures.

"Now that we are discovered, we must move with even more haste…" Nobu'tan declared, pointing at a door at random. The mighty axe of the Felguard swung obediently, caving in the door with one stroke. Nobu'tan entered, followed by Lucius. "Keep the exit clear, we will return when we have our prize," he told Nott and Macnair, who nodded and gathered their magic to cast bolts of shadow at any who actually made it past the Voidwalkers. Killing their fellow wizards seemed a small matter for them, since they were not recognizable.

Nobu'tan pressed on; entering what looked like a drab set of offices, desks and other furniture strewn about as though many people left in a great hurry. "They knew we were coming…" Lucius commented.

"It seems so… and personally I'd like to find out why that is, but the Tome is our priority." Nobu'tan replied, ordering his Felguard toward one of the doors leading from this new room, while he himself approached a second. He had just swung open the door before him, revealing another set of offices, with a large bell jar in the center of the room, displaying an egg hatching and resealing itself in a continual loop, when the Felguard's angry bellow tore his eyes away.

Wizard's were lurking in the room that the Felguard smashed open, and retaliated with a barrage of spells, pushing back the demon in its surprise. Lucius retaliated, curses of great anguish and pain flying from his lips, even as his own imp launched a storm of fire bolts in the wizards' direction.

The wizards retreated, only one falling as the Felguard's axe caught him as he turned to flee. The unfortunate human was partially crushed, partially cleaved in two as the powerful swing dug deeply into the ground beneath him.

"If they are defending that direction, then there may be something of use there…" Nobu'tan decided aloud, and ordered the Felguard to push into the room. The brute obeyed, snarling at the peppering of spells that washed over it, but most of the magic was meant to try and hinder rather than kill it, and it was able to shrug off a vast majority of the weaker magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was just sitting down chatting with his good friend Alastor Moody, when the old scarred Auror decided to shock the Headmaster to the core. "Unfortunately, I'm not here for just a social call, Albus," he had begun, which Albus had perfectly expected. Alastor never did social calls, being quite impersonal and somewhat of a recluse when he could manage it. "There has been quite a disturbing attack just inside Knockturn Alley, and magic I've never believed possible was used…"

The words chilled Albus' blood, his thoughts immediately leaping to the one being he knew of that could generate magic unknown to the wider wizarding world. And, unfortunately, the more that Alastor described what he found, the more that Albus' hopes sank. Yes, he knew exactly who was capable of the overwhelmingly precise fiendfyre that Alastor spoke of, and as much as he would rather keep this unfortunate business a secret until he could find and recapture Harry himself, there was no case for him to guarantee the boy's safety after he murdered three Aurors in the street.

"I'm quite saddened to say that I do indeed know of the magic you speak, Alastor," he began, but the scarred Auror jerked suddenly, before plunging a hand into his robes and removing a small mirror. "This is Alastor, speak!" he commanded, and the voice of Amelia Bones filled the room.

"Alastor, the Ministry is under attack! A group of unknown creatures are down in the Department of Mysteries, causing untold damage and fighting openly with the Aurors we sent to stop them. The Unspeakables got wind of the attack moments before and have retreated, but many of their people are foolishly remaining behind to protect their projects and the other secrets hidden down there…"

"Bloody Ravenclaws, the lot of them…" Alastor swore, turning his attention to Albus, "If you have any idea about this madness, you'd better come with me Albus, we need every able wand to deal with this threat, and yours counts as at least five when it comes down to it."

Albus sighed, knowing he had no ability to deflect or refuse. "I will do so, but I hope our aim is to capture and not kill…"

"That's up to those idiots who attacked the Ministry in broad daylight…" Alastor retorted angrily, turning and stomping from Albus' office. Thinking mournfully of what Harry… Nobu'tan… could possibly be after, Albus followed, hoping beyond hope that he was wrong to assume that this attack was the work of the young Potter heir.

Whether any of the Professors noticed as he and Alastor left the castle in such a hurry he did not know, as no one commented or tried to stop them from reaching the apparition point at the wrought iron gates of the castle grounds. They quickly twisted, popping through space to the Ministry Atrium point, where a great number of witches and wizards, both civilians and Ministry workers alike, were crowding to stay where they thought it would be safe.

"Make way! Make way! Move!" Alastor barked, shoving through the terrified crowd, while Albus simply started toward the golden gates of the lifts, and the crowd parted for him instinctively. There were some advantages to having taught or been Headmaster to so many generations of people back to back.

Reaching the lift, Alastor yelled orders at one of the Aurors standing guard, and demanded that more be sent down to the Department of Mysteries to support himself and Albus, before limping inside after the Headmaster and ramming the button with his finger.

The lift felt agonizingly slow, and Alastor starting to pace angrily as it descended. For Albus however, it felt painful for another reason. He wasn't sure if he could handle knowing if Harry was involved in this attack, so soon after fleeing Hogwarts. If the Wizarding World learned of this, there would be severe repercussions that could affect the entire war with Voldemort that was still yet to come, and there wouldn't be anything that Albus could do to show leniency or mercy.

As they arrived on the correct floor, the smell of charring flesh invaded their nostrils, and both Alastor and Albus cast Bubblehead Charms to contain fresh air for them to breathe. "Report, what the bloody hell is going on here!" Alastor shouted through the protective sphere at the nearest red robed Auror, even as others fired potshots of spells over a makeshift barricade that they seem to have erected at one end of the corridor.

"We're not sure," the Auror grudgingly replied, "there seems to be at least four hostiles just inside the first room of the Department, but none of them seem human. Two in the lead charge out and attack anyone who gets close, while two more in the next room shoot powerful bolts of magic and fire at anyone who so much as peeks over the barricade."

"What of the Unspeakables?" Moody demanded, making the junior Auror trembling, "Most have reported in, but we believe that there are more planning to apparate back into their laboratories to either liberate their experiments or counterattack the others inside. They said that there were four of the spell casters that arrived, but we can only account for two now."

"So the others are inside the Department proper, doing who knows what while we're stuck out here…" Alastor summarized, and the Auror nodded. The scarred Auror limped to the edge of the barricade, momentarily looked up and over, before ducking a powerful blast of darkness, and nodded to himself.

"All right, listen up!" Alastor shouted at the Aurors fighting down the barricade, "We're making a coordinated attack on the door, I want four in front with the most powerful shields you can make, while Albus and myself take the middle to take out their blue creature friends. The rest of you stay behind us and cover the rear, just in case. As your shields weaken, fall to the back and new Aurors just in to keep to cooperative shield charged. Into formation, go!"

The Aurors hastened to comply, seeming to be rejuvenated from the presence of such a powerful authority figure in Alastor, or perhaps due to the presence of Albus himself, but the Headmaster of Hogwarts didn't bother to consider the reasoning, as Alastor was already waving his wand at the barricade, blasting it out into the corridor even as the massive shield erected itself in front of them from the four Aurors.

"Go, go, go!" Alastor cried, and as one they started to slowly advance, spells and magical flames washing over the shield as they moved.

The smoke covering the corridor was thick, and it made seeing to the end very difficult, but Albus was able to see the shadowy figures rapidly approaching them, seeming to pulsate as they moved, and with the Elder Wand in hand, he cast a powerful stunner at the first, only for the spell to splay red over the figure and knock it back several yards. But whatever it was got up instantly and was charging again.

"Aurors! Attack!" Alastor cried, using a Blasting Hex on the second shape as it started out of the thick dust. A massive form of blue smoke, with glowing eyes and strange magical bracers on its wispy arms barreled out of the darkness, only to be connected with a half dozen spells at once, which only succeeded in knocking the creature about and interrupting its forward momentum, but seeming to otherwise be unharmed.

Albus sensed a need to switch tactics, and immediately started to pull on the powerful lines of magic that ran under the Ministry itself. Thinking of the great power of his familiar, Albus summoned a sphere of pure magical fire, and hurled it with great force at one of the blue creatures. It impacted the mass of blue shadows with a deafening explosion, and ignited the gasses that formed its body.

With a small rush of air, it imploded upon itself, leaving only the magical bracers behind as it vanished, but the other creature was already on them, grappling a now screaming Auror. It seemed just the touch of these creatures caused pain, as the man was flailing in his attempts to strike the blue monster with anyone he could manage. " _Impedimenta_!" Moody shouted, knocking the creature off of his man, even as Albus conjured magical projectiles of pure Arcane energy, which dispersed this beast as it had its fellow.

Alastor's eye whirled back to the corridor, "Shields up!" he commanded, and it was not a moment too soon, as a literal firestorm erupted from the corridor, splashing over their shield and causing several of the Aurros to fall back, their magic weakened from enduring such a barrage of magic. From where he stood, Albus could only sag slightly as he spotted the green tint of dark magic in the fire, and he knew for a certainty that the same magic that Harry used was involved here, making it almost certain that the boy was somehow the cause of this unprovoked attack.

A slash of his wand, and Albus banished the dust cloud obscuring their vision, revealing the horde of nearly a dozen angry little creatures, fire pouring off their hands as the skipped toward them from the smashed doorway to the Department of Mysteries. What was more, the figures in the doorway were unlike anything Albus had seen. Imposing bodies that were various shades of green, rippling with muscle and strength despite the robes that they wore, the creatures' tusked faces were set in determination and hatred at the loss of their pets, or minions perhaps. They also were channeling great spheres of fire, orange in color, so not as strong in the same dark magic that Nobu'tan used, but nonetheless the same.

They would be overrun in moments if Albus did not act. Gathering a vast amount of Arcane magic to himself, the Headmaster of Hogwarts unleashed a torrent of pure magic, barraging the advancing creatures and knocking them all flying with the force behind the waves of magical power.

The hulking creatures fled further into the Department of Mysteries, and Alastor ordered his Aurors after them, before stomping to the nearest dead fire-creature and stooping to examine it. "I've never seen anything like it Albus," he said, almost intrigued with the small being, but Albus couldn't bring himself to draw nearer to the tainted thing. It was pure evil, and he could sense its vile magic from where he stood.

"Come, we must make sure that whatever those others are after is protected…" he said, distracting the old Auror from his curiosity. Together they followed in the wake of destruction that had obliterated several of the doors in the Department.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius could hear the fighting back in the main circle of the Department of Mysteries, but Lord Nobu'tan seemed rather uninterested in what was going on behind them. The massive axe wielding demon had continued its rampage under the order of the warlock, slowly making their progress through the department until they at last came to a door that wouldn't yield to the blunt force of the axe.

"What is this?" Nobu'tan said, more to himself than Lucius, even as he placed an illusioned hand on the door.

"Its rumored that the Unspeakables experiment on various things, and that this particular room was given to the study of some of the most powerful things in the world…" even as he spoke, Lucius winced at the foolishness of what he had to report, "namely, love…"

"Love…?" Nobu'tan repeated, although not nearly as scornfully as Lucius had thought he would. The Dark Lord had certainly thought it foolishness for the Ministry to be studying the magical power of emotions, but it seemed Nobu'tan was actually considering what that could imply. "Where better for them to hide away artifacts that they wouldn't want anyone else to know they had, correct?" he suggested, before focusing his entire will and intent on the door barring their way.

The sheer amount of power that abruptly surged forth from the small boy was enough to make Lucius stagger. He would have been a fool to oppose Nobu'tan he thought, even as Lucius watched the illusioned twelve year old unleash explosions of fire, and missiles of pure Nether energy upon the physical obstacle, seeming to batter some sort of powerful shield that existed over the door, even still, under the strain of the attacks, the door remained obstinately in their way.

"No, I need more power!" Nobu'tan cried, his voice started to warp even as black energy coursed around him. Lucius did indeed take several steps back as the young warlock seemed to grow, transforming into a massive demon-like being of Fel energy. Wings splayed out, the claws of the creature flew forward, Fel energy and fire rained from them in a glorious display, assaulting the door and its defenses anew.

Just then, a shout from behind him caused Lucius to turn. Nott and Macnair were running toward them as fast as they could; only pausing occasionally to fire spells as they fled. It could only mean that the Aurors had arrived, probably with some higher up with them, like Moody or some other that figured out how to defeat their demons. Lucius had noted that while their wizard spells could indeed harm the Nether creatures, they weren't nearly as effective on the extraplanar beings as the raw magic of the warlock. It seemed that their personal brand was more tuned for fine usage, and not fit to try and overcome the natural magic of such powerful creatures.

Then the red robes of the Aurors appeared two rooms back from their position, and Lucius concentrated carefully. He had chosen to train in the arts of Soul Magic, and readily put those skills now to the test, imbedding horrid curses to each of the Aurors, bashing through their shields and other defenses and ripping away their very life force into himself. The wizarding enforcers shrieked as they fell one by one, convulsing on the ground as those riddled with the agony of the Cruciatus, and Lucius could feel the power of their much younger bodies giving him strength.

With a resounding crash, he realized that Nobu'tan had defeated the blocked door at last, and they were ready to move on, but even as he turned, the demonic visage was facing the way they had come, instead of the path ahead. " _Dumbledore…_ " the demonic shape rumbled, and Lucius turned to see the old man standing at the far side of the passage.

The Headmaster spared only a fleeting glance to the fallen Aurors around him, making sure that they were all still alive, before advancing on them, wand out and flames pouring from his free hand, "I do not know who or what you are," he said casually, but Lucius could detect the steel in the old voice, "but I cannot allow you to go any further. Some secrets are best left alone, and beyond that door is a power too great and terrible for anyone to witness…"

Lucius was about to retort, when the demonic form of Nobu'tan chuckled, the laughter booming off the stone walls as he casually waved a hand at the wizard. From far above, there was the sound of shattering stone and great crashing, until from the ceiling a massive meteorite impacted the floor between the warlocks and Dumbledore. But what was more frightening than even such a stone falling through layers of building and wards, was the creature that rose up from the crater. Like a monstrous golem of stone and flame, it rose up, arms drawing back to crush any in its path, and stomping with force enough to shatter the stone floor beneath it.

Dumbledore wasted no time engaging the creature, but Nobu'tan had already turned his back to the wizard, entering with the Felguard into the 'love' room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan couldn't help himself abandoning the battle and entering the newly opened room immediately. There was something off about it, something that he didn't understand. The door had been powerfully shielded, and Nobu'tan was starting to think that he wouldn't be able to get through, when all of a sudden it just opened to him, shattering under the pressure of his magic. But it was clearly not of his doing that the doorway became opened.

As he had expected, the room was filled with artifacts, and on a plinth in the very center was the Grimoire he sought, entwined dragons upon the leather-bound cover. But even as he reached for it, Nobu'tan staggered back as a dome of golden light appeared over the entire pedestal, shielding the book from him.

" _You have no need for the evil power contained in that tome, young Harry Potter…_ " entered a powerful voice into the warlock's mind, sounding almost melodic in nature. It startled him enough that he slipped from his demonic form, back into the illusioned state of an orc based strongly off his old Master.

Nobu'tan whirled, seeking the source of the voice, and came face to face with a being that shone with the purity of an inner light. It was crystalline in form, with different pieces that were swirling around some central point in the figure, but clearly not human or like any creature that Nobu'tan had encountered on this world before.

"Who or what are you? And why do you stop me from taking the Grimoire?" Nobu'tan demanded of the light, wondering where his Felguard was. The answer was apparent when he spotted the demon, frozen in place with bonds of powerful golden magic. He knew somewhat of this power, from Gul'dan. The Clerics of Northshire had been some of the human's most powerful spell casters, outside of Dalaran, but eventually they had turned to the knights of Lordaeron to train into Holy warriors, counterparts to Gul'dan's Death Knight. Paladins they were called, if he remembered correctly. But still it was clear that the same holy magic was at work here, and the warlock was at a loss as to how he could combat such a creature.

" _I am K'uri, and I am a Naaru,_ " the creature explained, planting the words directly into his mind, " _and I stop you, because to claim that book would start you on a pathway to great sorrow and much tragedy…_ "

"I don't need some swirling light creature to tell me my future…" Nobu'tan snarled in response, "I already know what my future will hold, and I am making sure that it is seen through to the end." Turning to the protected book, Nobu'tan started to channel dark power in an attempt to break the shield, but the creature, the Naaru, spoke again in his mind, " _I can tell how much it angers you to not be in control here, but let me speak my piece, and then the book is yours to do as you see it, to whatever end it directs you._ "

Despite himself, Nobu'tan stopped and listened, allowing the blasted Holy creature to speak, " _If you are so intent on following the footsteps of your master Gul'dan, perhaps it would be wisest for you to know that he himself was betrayed by the Legion, and that there is no honor among those demons, and even less toward mortals. You would serve them eternally, until they have no more use for you, and discard you, like they did the old orc_."

"I don't believe that!" Nobu'tan snapped sharply, fire blossoming around his arms in his rage. It was not possible, Gul'dan was the Legion's loyal servant, and there was no reason for them to betray him. The orc was simply too powerful and too useful for them to be rid of him so easily.

" _Oh, but the Legion doesn't tolerate betrayal with any sort of mercy. In the end, the entire race of orcs were abandoned by their demon masters once they failed to eliminate the human nations from Azeroth_." K'uri continued.

"This only makes me desire to return home all the more," Nobu'tan said defiantly, but the laughter of the Naaru was his response. " _That is good, as Azeroth is indeed more you home than here, and the Legion would have little power to stop you once you were there_. _Just know that I and those that follow will not allow you to plunge this world into the flame so easily, just so you can satisfy your desire to return to Gul'dan's side, although it is far too late for that_. _Take you precious book, but be warned that the Legion is not nearly as honorable as you expect_."

With a great rushing of light, the shield fell on its own, and when Nobu'tan turned, the Naaru was gone. A roar from out in the previous room returned him to the situation at hand, and he snatched up the Grimoire, before sending the Felguard to assist his Infernal in fighting those who would hinder him.

When he reappeared, the others looked haggard from fighting, trying to keep the spells of the powerful Archmage from passing the Infernal and interfering with the search for Merlin's tome.

"We have outstayed out welcome." Nobu'tan said simply, and began channeling the spell to open the way out of the Ministry and back to Malfoy Manor. The infernal roared, staggered and fell, its fire extinguished just as the spell completed, and the gateway opened. Nobu'tan smirked as once again, Dumbledore was too late to stop him and his warlocks from escaping via a portal of his own creation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moody had absolutely no idea what was going on anymore, and he didn't like it. These creatures seemed to be quite unlike anything that he or any of the other Aurors had witnessed before, but Albus had simply taken the events in stride, and unleashed magic to counter them that felt so wildly diverged from anything that Alastor was used to seeing the old Headmaster do before.

Even as the four strange creatures that had summoned and controls all the strange beasts vanished through some sort of gateway, the old wizard seemed more perturbed than shocked, and the scarred Auror was ready for some answers.

"Albus, just what on earth is going on?" he said, stomping up to the Hogwarts Headmaster. Albus seemed to be deep in thought, but returned to the present as Alastor approached.

"I cannot be perfectly certain, Alastor," Albus said, but the tone was such that the old Auror knew that his old associate was concealing information that he didn't want casually shared.

"But you do have some information…" he insisted, after dispersing the Aurors to start cleaning up the mess and locating the remaining Unspeakables that had foolishly remaining in the Department.

Albus didn't answer, but Alastor could tell that he would be needed to make another surprise trip to Hogwarts in the near future for the full story, that which needed to stay off the records of the Ministry. Alastor didn't approve of how secretive that Albus tended to be with his information, but sometimes the old Headmaster had a point. The public could only know so much before they were unnecessarily overreact over some things, such as when news of Lord Voldemort's fall became an instant media sensation.

So, for the time being, Alastor took time to examine the remains of the various creatures, which was difficult as most of the corpses were vastly different from what one would consider remains. The little horned creatures had incinerated soon after their deaths, while the blue creatures of shadow had evaporated, aside from the magical bracers that had been left behind. Finally the massive monster that had been formed of fire and stone had merely left great chunks of green scorched rock, filled with dark magic but otherwise indecipherable to him or even his enchanted eye.

Trying to discover what the creatures had been after was even more difficult, as the Unspeakables, one they arrived, completely blocked off the room that the leader had entered, stating that they would be conducting their own investigation, and thus far nothing had been discovered missing.

Alastor knew that it was total lies, but he had no authority within the Department of Mysteries, and there could easily be half a dozen things that they were, no surprise, unable to speak of to other people outside their department.

Still, Alastor wished that he had more information to go on before he had to leave to contact Albus once again. The fact of how quickly the old Headmaster vanished from the scene was actually something of a feat. But regardless, it was almost ironic when he arrived back outside the Headmaster's office at the school, and entered when Albus beckoned.

"Well, what is it that you do know then?" Alastor started the moment he had shut the door behind him.

"Have a seat Alastor…" Albus said grimly, which stopped the old Auror dead in his tracks.

Albus Dumbledore never simply asked Alastor Moody to have a seat. Usually it was a casual invitation along with the ever-present wish for someone to taste of his muggle candies, but this time, Albus was as serious as Alastor had ever seen him before.

He sat, hastily, and worried momentarily as to what he was getting into. "This can be repeated to no one," Albus said dourly, as though even he himself imparting the knowledge to another was a potential mistake. The old man then proceeded, without interruption, to tell Alastor the tale of Harry Potter, the boy-who-disappeared, only to return with strange new magic and a story that had carefully been disguised in full until recently, and even still Albus only knew bits and pieces.

"So, what? You think Potter and his friends through the Malfoys would attack the Department of Mystery? You have to admit Albus that it makes little sense for them to do so, especially so soon after the boy basically declared that yes, he is a dark wizard."

Alastor didn't doubt for an instant that Albus was correct in his retelling, only that some of his speculations surrounding it might be jaded by his own biases, after all, that was why the old man gave Alastor the second in command role in the old Order of the Phoenix, during the last war.

"There is magical residue proof, that I have checked since returning to the castle, that undeniably attests that the magic these unknowns were using in the Ministry matched Harry's signature perfectly, as well as the style of magic generally." Albus said mournfully.

Alastor swore. If Dumbledore had proof, then they were all in for it now. "But you could fight off their beasts with relative ease, how'd you learn this Arcane of which you mentioned?" he asked, hopeful for some ray of sunshine in an otherwise grim and gloomy outlook for their near future.

"I was most fortuitous to make contact with a few of the students that Harry trained, and made several acquisitions of reference notes and other materials." Albus said, holding up a hand as the old Auror was about to speak again, "Yes, Alastor, before you ask I will teach some of this magic to you, and let you pass it on to the Auror office in due time to the end that we prevent a nationally crisis on the same level of the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Alastor relaxed slightly, if they had access to this raw level of magic, then he would feel much safer about those under his command. It was only a true pity that it seemed, between the need for skill Aurors in these now quite troubled times, and the learning of this new magic, that his days of retirement were short lived. Then again, not that big a concern, he had been getting bored in his cramped apartment day after day anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan clutched his prize tightly as the other warlocks rejoined their full Order in the training room of Malfoy Manor. Despite the high success of their mission, he was still troubled by several events relative to the attack on the Department of Mysteries. Firstly, how had the Unspeakables known that they were coming, and raised what limited defenses against them with little to no warning.

Secondly, it was astounding that the Aurors in charge immediately sent for Dumbledore to counter their threat, which made Nobu'tan nervous as to how much the old Headmaster had shared with others regarding Nobu'tan and his abilities. Normally he wouldn't even guess that Dumbledore would attempt that, but the quick response of the guards left him no other choice but to assume that they at least knew how powerful the warlocks were in comparison to their wizard magic.

And finally there was the glaring oddity that was the Naaru creature that he had encountered inside the room that once held the book now clutched in his grip. Nobu'tan was still unable to piece together everything that the creature had implied, aside from the rage-inducing fact that Gul'dan was supposedly betrayed by the Legion.

It simply made no sense. Gul'dan was the most powerful warlock in the Horde, and they were on the verge of victory, why would the demons abandon them at that crucial moment? Could it possibly be that they succeeded, and the demons decided to usurp power from the Horde? It was all making Nobu'tan blind with rage and he couldn't decide on whom to trust, as the being of light seemed completely confident of itself and Nobu'tan somehow felt strongly that it had no reasons to lie to him.

Shaking himself vigorously from these frustrating thoughts, Nobu'tan clawed at the metal latch that held the Grimoire of Merlin shut, eager to look at the pages of the second artifact that the Order of the Black Harvest needed to summon the Legion to this world. Naturally, the script was illegible to him, being some sort of ancient Ogham writing, but of course that would only be a problem until a translation charm was applied, much like when Nobu'tan learned English two years previously.

Immediate casting the charm from memory, adding in the small twist of phrase in the Latin to make it focus on the language he was looking at, Nobu'tan watched as his mind instantly started to shift the words to a more contextual orcish that he was intently familiar with.

' _The History and lore of Myrddin Emrys, also called Merlin Ambrosius, counselor of Arthur son of Uther, and Guardian of Avalon._ '

Nobu'tan froze as he read the titles. 'Guardian of Avalon…' so much of this world paralleled with Azeroth, and he feared that this aspect would as well. He knew somewhat concerning Guardians of worlds, especially the powerful Medivh that had brought the Horde to Azeroth, and he would be sore worried if this Merlin was even a tenth as powerful as the Guardian of Tirisfal.


	30. C29: Allies

**So, I nearly forgot about posting, probably close to three times in the same day, so I'm still kicking myself for that. My bad. But it is still Tuesday, so I guess it still counts as on time with my schedule, so I won't let this worry me about becoming a habit or something... yet... Anyway, thanks to those who continue to review. *for those who continue to ask, yes there will be an Azeroth arc after events that take place in the Wizarding World, and it's in the works of coming to pass in due time.* So I advise patience, and enjoyment, with this next chapter. ~F**

 **Chapter Twenty Nine**

 **Allies**

Severus wasn't pleased to be called so quickly to the Headmasters office during the summer holidays. While he normally spent most of his time in the castle regardless, for once he had been out and abroad, following up on his usual leads among the Death Eater factions, growing more concerned as he was rejected by them one by one. It was as though they had all changed allegiances from the Dark Lord to some other, but surely that couldn't be the case? Or so Severus hoped, but he feared that the dark powers that Potter wielded could easily be enough to tempt even Lucius to joining the boy's side, whatever that entailed.

Entering the Headmaster's office, a sudden movement next to the door had Severus leaping back and drawing his wand in a flash, only to come face to hideous face with Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody. "I see your reflexes are still sharp Snape," the man said curtly, "that's good."

"Headmaster," Severus said, turning to Albus, who had not moved from his seat behind the desk, "is there a reason for my presence, or was it simply one of Moody's clever tests…"

What Severus said was not without merit. For the first several years of his changing from Death Eater to spy, Moody had tested him around every corner for even the hint of deception.

"No, no there is a very important reason that you are here Severus, please have a seat." Albus said, waving the pair of them over to the desk. "Naturally you would not have heard about the attack on the Department of Mysteries, Severus, due to your time going around keeping tabs on Lord Voldemort's supporters here and abroad, but I and Alastor were there, and you need to know that I strongly suspect that Harry, or those trained by him, were involved."

That sent shivers down Severus' spine, "you believe that strongly, then?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"We have several items that give no doubt to the presence of that same brand of dark magic, confirmed by way of Alastor's magical eye to have the same, if not similar, auras to the items that had been in contact with Harry that he left here in Hogwarts." Albus confirmed with a grim nod.

Severus frowned, "I have not been able to sustain contact with any of the Death Eaters that are still at large here in Britain. They all seem to be shunning me or any mention of the Dark Lord. I am led therefore to suspect that they have given their allegiance to another, and it is highly likely that it is Potter himself that commands them now."

"Why would the boy take up the cause of the madman that killed his entire family?" Alastor demanded, leaning forward and the sickening electric blue eye spinning rapidly in his skull.

"Oh, I doubt that Harry, or Nobu'tan as his proper name is, is planning to take up the old Pureblood dogma of Lord Voldemort," Albus chided gently, leaning back in his seat and placing the tips of his fingers together in thought, "no, he had his own agenda, and I couldn't even begin to guess that it might entail, at least in full, but I do have some speculation to parts of it…"

"…and?" Alastor pressed when Albus fell silent again.

"Throughout his time here at Hogwarts," Albus explained slowly, "Harry… Nobu'tan… has been obsessively researching one thing over all else: Magical transportation. All that in the hopes of what I had thought to be a way to revolutionize the industry with massive portals that could transport large numbers of people and objects over long distances, making both the Floo and Portkeys obsolete…."

"Those creatures used some sort of portal that matches that description," Alastor quickly pointed out, interrupting. Severus sighed softly, wondering if the blasted Auror would ever just stop and listen to what the old man had to say so that the Potions Master could leave.

"Yes," Albus affirmed, "that same sort of portal was what Nobu'tan used to escape from the castle not a few weeks prior to the attack on the Department of Mysteries. I have no doubts that those 'creatures' were actually very clever disguises to hide Harry and his accomplices, which according to Severus' information, ought to be all those old servants of Voldemort that claimed Imperius and bought their way out of Azkaban."

"And you know then that their alibis will be far too tight for Amelia to do anything about them either, what with Potter being 'missing,' and therefore having no proof to simply raid and investigate Malfoy Manor or one of the other Pureblood properties." Alastor said grumpily.

"Yes," Albus agreed softly, more so to placate the angry Auror than to really show agreement on infringing on other's rights to privacy. Severus knew that the Headmaster was far too old fashioned, and a Pureblood himself for that matter, and understood the aristocracy's need for some sort of mystery around their persons, regardless if he personally agreed with it.

"However," the old wizard continued, "what worries me more is Nobu'tan motives with these portals. It seems too convenient that he would simply want to make travel on our world easier…"

"Our world?" Alastor interrupted again, "Albus you can't be suggesting what I think you are?"

"But I am Alastor…" Dumbledore responded calmly, "Harry had disappeared for almost ten years to another world in our universe, one that was heavily entrenched in magic, and it is from there that he learned these wondrous arts, the Arcane, and its dark counterpart whose name I do not know. I believe that there are two options, one more terrifying than the other. Either he is trying to get back to that world, and leave us for good, which I could understand as he truly has no home with us anymore, or the more horrific possibility that he wants to bring something from there to here, such as person or persons unknown that taught him, and would therefore be a magical being without rival upon our world."

"Merlin's beard…" Alastor said softly, considering the possibility, "So you think, in the Department of Mysteries…"

"That Harry and his allies were seeking some artifact that could strengthen their portals? I do indeed Alastor. But as to what item in specific, I have no idea. The Department of Mysteries does not get along with myself very well, as I refused several times to assist them with experiments that I felt were too far from what ought to be considered wizarding possibilities, and thus would never tell me the full contents of their trove of knowledge. It literally could be anything. All I know is that, if what I fear is correct, that beast of fire and stone was merely the beginning of what horrors could await our world if Harry is left to his own devices."

Alastor sudden stood, "I'll get Amelia on board, within reasonable explanation, and she'll get the Minister on your side of this. There have to be measures to find the boy before he can get into too much more trouble. September is rolling around soon again correct? Well, it's highly unlikely that he'll appear back at Hogwarts for classes, and we can't have the Boy-who-Lived be truant can we?"

Severus was surprised. Seeing Mad-Eye Moody completely backing a plan with an even better execution was impressive, and the Potions Master wondered if this triumvirate, himself, Alastor and Albus, could be what was needed to defeat this apparently riding Dark Lord before he placed himself in the throne of the last.

"Good, we'll also need to gather the old crowd," Albus said. "The Order of the Phoenix will be needed to keep tabs on those more political of Harry's potential allies, so that we can keep one step ahead of them if they try to move him out of the country, for example."

"With those portals of his, would that even work?" Severus spoke up, questioning. "Why would they even need to apply for an international portkey if they could just tear open holes in space wherever they want?"

"And have almost a dozen high profile political members of the Wizengamot suddenly vanishing into thin air?" Albus questioned back, "There'd be uproar immediately. No, if Harry leaves Britain, some of his followers would have to stay to maintain influence here, and report to him regularly without the use of his powerful transportation. We wait to see which of them grabs a portkey to wherever they are keeping him, and then we'll have our answer."

"We should also look into reasons to enter and investigate Malfoy Manor, such as Dark Artifact raids or some such…" Alastor suggested, "Whoever denies us entry or protests the most is likely the one giving the boy sanctuary for the time being."

"We need to move cautiously," Albus said, "But yes, I agree that swiftness is of the essence in this matter. If you can get the approval from the Ministry, then by all means do it."

"I'll go now, but I want an owl within two days for an update, and for when we shall get to this business of learning new magic Albus, you can just sit on a major discovery like that without letting the Ministry know. One way or another it will become public, and you know what the likes of Rita Skeeter would do if it was not announced by you voluntarily…" Moody insisted, and Albus sighed as the man marched out of the room.

Severus was thorough impressed at the entire meeting. Usually he and Albus would do the majority of the talking in such instances, and Moody would just snipe and rebuttal everything until they were all at a standstill. Clearly whatever they had witnessed in the Department of Mysteries was of such earth-shattering significance that even the illustrious Alastor Moody felt that it was time to play nicely with the other children and share his insight and thoughts. In actuality it was a rather pleasant change.

"Severus," Albus said, drawing the man's attention back to him, "aside from checking up on all the free Death Eaters, what strides have you made in copying down those strange arts that Harry had been practicing down in your dungeons for the last two years."

"Some," Severus said, "but I haven't had the time required to actually sit and look through the notes I carefully took without his notice about each of the things he made and did, and even then it wasn't much. The boy is quite brilliant, you see, and did almost everything by rote memory as though he had practiced it many times before, and was just refreshing himself, or testing to see if the same things worked on our world…" Severus added thoughtfully.

"I'd wager that the second option is the more truthful one," Albus said, nodding, "I worried, Severus… I worry what we may have just unwittingly unleashed upon the world…" Albus suddenly grew still and somber, looking across his room almost wistfully.

"After all these years, have I still not learned my lesson…?" he suddenly asked himself, and Severus felt immediately uncomfortable sitting there while the man pondered something aloud, which to the Potions Master's ears sounded deeply personal and something more private than Severus had ever know Albus Dumbledore to be.

Eventually Albus did return to the world around him and readdressed Severus, "You may go, I have plans to make, and letter to write to all our allies, keep me apprised of anything, anything… you discover. Even the slightest detail could change the course of what is to come."

Severus nodded, almost grateful to be leaving the man's presence. After the arrival of Harry Potter to the castle, the changes that had come over the Headmaster were starting to show, and it was a rather worrisome thing to witness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco glanced around, only slightly nervous as he made his way through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley. He was more than aware of the goings on of the Order of the Black Harvest, being second on the leading council, and was well apprised of the happenings of their attack at the Department of Mysteries, and the potential backlashes that would come of it.

While it was significantly unlikely that anyone could actively pin the blame on any of them directly, as they lacked significant proof of their involvement, the council had mutually agreed that it was still highly likely that people would start to be sent to watch them wherever they went in wizarding society. Nobu'tan had already declared that he would not be attending Hogwarts, disguise or not, as the obvious threat to him was far too great. What they had left to decide was whether the other Slytherins who would be going into third year ought to attend or not.

One the one hand, it would show a sense of normalcy, and perhaps give those watching the idea that they might not be involved. The problem was that they were dealing with Albus Dumbledore, who had great quantities of patience, persistence, and cunning to rival each and every one of them three times over. Draco and his father were leaning towards also pulling him out of the school, but at the same time Lucius was still a member of the Board of Governors, which gave them some form of power in the goings on of Hogwarts.

There was much to decide in their last month of summer. Lucius and Nott Sr. had already made contact with one of their comrades from the old days, Igor Karkaroff, who had somehow become Headmaster of Durmstrang Academy up in the mountains toward Russia, and through a minor amount of persuasion, transferred Harry Potter to his school, which the man had seemed overly delighted to accept.

Draco knew he ought to not feel jealous, he was growing far too old for such petty things, and his new position in life had too many responsibilities for his decision to be clouded by emotion, but he still felt the tiniest twinge of regret that he might not be going to the other school as well.

Still, he did what was needful, and that included at the moment, escorting a heavily disguised Harry Potter to Gringotts bank so that he could meet with the leader of the goblins, and see what their decision was regarding the shifting balance of the world and its future.

Glancing around casually, Draco did notice that, aside from the well dressed Pureblood, which was actually a Polyjuice Potion disguise that Harry wore, some muggle or another that matched Lucius' build so that the leader of their order could borrow one of Draco's father's robes, that there were at least three others spread through the Alleyway that were intently watching Draco's every move.

At least their attention was on him and not Harry, Draco mused as he wandered near to the entrance of the Bank, not going inside or even looking at it directly as he spotted the well dressed muggle man bypass the goblins with a wary glance at each, which seemed to be some sort of signal to them, as the pair of guards shifted as Harry passed.

Stage one completed then, he thought, sighing to himself as he made his way back to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he was supposed to wait for Harry to be finished and rejoin him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that the goblins were aware of his presence the moment he walked in, and it had nothing to do with the clerk that immediately broke off conversation with a customer, and to the wizard's angry mutterings jumped down from his stool and walked swiftly toward the warlock.

"Ah, sir, we've been expecting you, allow me to escort you down to the conference room." The goblin said, far more politely than Nobu'tan ever recalled the creatures acting, even toward him. It was a good sign at the least. The line of witches and wizards that they bypassed complained at the audacity of goblins and other things as the pair passed them by, leaving the counter with no teller to tend to their needs, and walked quickly to the back room of the bank.

"You'll need to pass through a thief's downfall to get there," the goblin explained, "and it will remove your Potion that keeps you disguised, I trust you have more of it on you?"

"I do," Nobu'tan replied, and the goblin nodded. "We anticipated this, and acquired robes of your original size, should you need them for modesty's sake."

"I am grateful for the consideration," the warlock said, keeping emotion from his face as he stared at the gushing waterfall that was quickly approaching as they walked. It was curious that this was not here before, to his knowledge, unless they were taking a different path to the same room, and he wondered if he truly warranted an increase of security, which was either a good or a bad thing.

"Mr. Potter," the director said as soon as Nobu'tan entered the room, which had not changed from the last time he had entered weeks previously. "Just the young human we had been waiting for. Come, have a seat. There is much for us to discuss…" he added with a toothy grin.

The polite treatment of every goblin thus far was putting the orc-raised human on edge, and he gingerly took the offered seat across the table from the six goblins. "We have not had the pleasure of true introductions, if I recall," the Director stated, "I am Gotts Ironbane, director of Gringotts bank and chieftain of our clan. These are Nogz Bonecutter," the armor wearing warrior goblin nodded, his steely eyes watching Nobu'tan's every move, "Besz Dreadarm," the miner was carefully balancing a pickaxe on its shaft next to him, and darted his eyes to Nobu'tan and back to his tool, "Szor Metalheart," the craftgoblin, who was busy making calculations on an abacus, paused to flash a large grin at Nobu'tan, before returning to his task, "Ren Greatfinder," the blind shaman, who seemed to stare not in the general direction of the warlock before her, but through him, "and Sadz Darkeye." Finally the priest nodded at Nobu'tan, unfolding her arms from across her small body to lean on the table between them.

"Greetings to you all," Nobu'tan replied, "You clearly know who I am, or at least who I am to this world, and I have told you somewhat more about the truth, but I feel that this is not a meeting wherein either of us wishes to exchange pleasantries for too long. I have much to accomplish in a short time, and I am sure that the running of a nation and a bank is not the most liberal career for time…"

"Astute, as well as cunning…" Sadz the priestess said, to the nods of her fellows.

"Indeed," Director Gotts agreed, "and we would be remiss not to honor such tactful use of our mutual time. Yes, directness would be the best for both our parties. We are most intrigued by your offer, and especially the knowledge of new clans in worlds far beyond our own, but there are some… misgivings among some of us as to the means to which you wish to accomplish these goals."

"We've heard of the attack on the Ministry," Nogz the warrior said sharply, "and we don't completely understand why you would be so willing to turn on your fellow humans so easily, even more so your own countrymen."

"Simple," Nobu'tan replied, holding the tiniest of smiles on his face, "They are not my countrymen… the world I seek to return to has those who I call my people there, and the wizards were preventing me from taking control of one of the artifacts that I need to gather to get there, and those who stand against me, will die."

The warrior fell quiet at that, and it seemed that the other goblins were satisfied with the answer they were given. "So I take it you are willing to take part in my plans," Nobu'tan asked, and glancing over them all, did not find anything to the contrary, "Good, then know that I have no intentions of sacrificing you or your people to the Legion at any time, and what I suggest you are free to reject at your will, but the times will grow most perilous very soon."

Nobu'tan was about to speak further, when something within his robes suddenly grew extremely warm. Confused, he paused and reached in a hand, withdrawing the bag of his personal trinkets, and from that the strange fractured shard of soul that he had claimed from various artifacts that had belonged to the Dark Lord Voldemort. "Interesting…" he said to himself, more than the goblins before him, "It seems that it has awakened, and senses the presence of another piece of itself…"

"What is that you hold?" the craftsman Szor said, leaning forward with a monocle fixed in his eye, squinting the other to see better.

"A crystalline piece of a perverse soul…" the Shaman Ren replied, "belonging to the Dark Lord, who all who walk above the ground fear to speak the name of, save a few of the wisest and bravest…"

"Indeed," Nobu'tan affirmed, "If my allegiance cannot be recognized, I would submit this as evidence. I am still the defeater of that cursed human, and seek out the pieces of himself that tie him to this world. I have two, and there is a third somewhere within Gringotts…"

The reaction was palpable. The director fell silent, while Ngoz barked a string of orders in the goblin language, summoning warriors from places Nobu'tan would never have guessed that any were hiding, before sending them scurrying from the room.

"If there is any truth to your words, Mr. Potter," the Priestess, Sadz, said, "We shall find the item of which you speak. I trust you have methods of purifying the container once this is complete?"

"I do," Nobu'tan replied, holding the crystal aloft as proof.

"Then we shall descend into the vaults together, and seek out this vile object." Gotts declared, rising from his seat, followed by his council, and Nobu'tan out of politeness. "If this is true, you may well have earned our trust, for the time being."

"I am sure of its validity, and I thank you for your words," Nobu'tan replied, even as he followed the group from the room, through another passage and down a winding staircase to the cavernous vault area, where rails spanned for miles in every direction, the carts flying across them as they carried goblins, wizards and treasure from place to place.

"Can your crystal divine the way for us?" Sadz requested of Nobu'tan, and the young warlock held the fragmented soul shard aloft, turning it this way and that, wondering if it even could do as the goblin priestess requested.

It was a surprise then, when the crystal gave a shuddering pulsation when Nobu'tan pointed it into the caverns far below. "Apparently, down is the direction we must go…" he said, bemused at the little distraction himself.

"Then down we shall," Gotts said, snapping his fingers and summon a pair of carts, and they climbed in three and four per cart, and together the seven of them launched downward along the rails. Keeping a firm grip on Voldemort's soul fragment, Nobu'tan continued to direct them as they rode, continuing to get the impression that the object they sought was further down into the depths of the vaulted bank.

They passed through another thief's downfall, and Nobu'tan realized that they must have entered the high security vault area of the bank, the lowest levels. The carts eventually ground to a halt, the track itself ending as it skimmed along the ground floor of the dark and torch-lit bank. "If we are to proceed from here, we will need the clankers…" Gotts said, and Nogz produced a bag from one of the carts, that made an absurd amount of noise as it was moved.

Passing a random noisemaker to each of the goblins in the group, the bank director lead the way as they followed the direction indicated by the crystal, which led to a new chamber that held, to Nobu'tan's mild shock, a real dragon. It was tethered to the stone floor of the chamber, both rear legs cuffed to thick goblin-made chains that held it in place.

Its scales were pale from living underground, and its eyes a milky pink, yet its apparent weakness was not to be underestimated, until the goblins started to rattle their noisemakers, and the dragon hurried to scamper out of the way as much as the chains allowed it.

"It's been trained to expect great pain when it hears the clankers…" Ren explained to Nobu'tan, who merely nodded. There were only a handful of vaults in the room past the dragon, and the soul shard fragment quickly directed them to the one furthest from the dragon. "The LeStrange Vault…" Gotts said, quickly swiping a clawed finger down the door, which caused the barrier to simply fade away. "I've lowered all the defenses of Gringotts from the vault, but whether the Purebloods cursed or warded their items, I cannot say."

"I understand," Nobu'tan replied, stepping inside, and looking up at the mounds of treasure in all directions. Personally he hadn't a clue where to begin, and so relied heavily on the shards be possessed to lead him, walking gingerly around the collection of years of wealth, and holding the shards aloft, turning this way and that so that they might react. Eventually they did, when faced with a wall of strange goblets and jeweled cups. Opening himself to the magic around him, Nobu'tan wasn't at all surprised to find some leylines of magic running under the bank as well, albeit much farther down than even they were already, but through them he could feel the unnatural presence of the same dark magic that had constituted the Diadem and the diary.

Running a small amount of Arcane power through the shard, Nobu'tan projected a beam of soul magic from it, which would be called to the object that resonated with the shard. The beam wavered for only a few moments, before focusing in on a small golden cup, with handles like badgers on either side.

"Here it is," he said, unwilling to physically touch it himself, just in case. Besz came then, which Nobu'tan felt odd as the rather silent goblin lifted his pickaxe, and deftly slotted it through the handle on one side, lifting the cup from its place without a problem. Gingerly, the goblin foreman carried the cup from the vault, Nobu'tan right after him as they rejoined the rest of the governing council of the goblin nation.

"This is it, then?" Gotts asked, and Ren leaned forward to inspect it, muttering to herself the magic of the elements. She reared back suddenly, horror and disgust on her face. "This is an abomination, horrific magic that must be cleansed!" she said suddenly, and Nobu'tan took that as his cue.

Holding the shard of the Dark Lord's soul in one hand, he stretched the other toward the cup, feeling his way through magic to the blackness that was inside it. Once he made contact he realized with a shock the difference here. The cup's magic was self aware.

Even as he tried to maintain a firm grip on the writhing power that controlled the cup, there was a screaming roar from within it, resonating through Nobu'tan's body, threatening to rend him limb from limb for daring to touch the immortality of the greatest Sorcerer who ever lived.

Nobu'tan would have fallen to his knees, but the goblins had rallied around him, and both Shaman and Priestess were muttering words of their own magic, shielding him from further attack, and mending the wounds that had suddenly burst open on his body from the horrendous mental attack made physical.

Still, Nobu'tan found on, knowing that he needed these goblins on his side more than ever, and he was not one to tolerate failure, much like Gul'dan before him. straining with all his might, Nobu'tan felt the spectral groping hand of his magic finally make contact with the vile soul piece of Voldemort, and pulled as hard as he dared, drawing the Dark Lord through the Twisting Nether that connected the place of magic to the real world and into the crystal shard in his other hand.

It was agonizing work, and the vile soul clawed and dug at him every step of the way, even as it was forced through Nobu'tan's own body on its way to the shard. Feeling decidedly unclean, Nobu'tan collapsed to the stone ground as he felt the soul finally leech into place, the cup now empty and the shard glowing with unnatural magic as it grew another small piece to house the new fragment of soul that it had attained.

"It is finished," he announced, holding the shard aloft and allowing the other goblins to see briefly.

"We should leave then," Gotts replied, and Nobu'tan guessed that the dragon was starting to get overly anxious or upset at the noise, and agreed. Quickly they vacated, and the roars of the dragon filled the corridor behind them. They didn't speak until they had returned to the carts, and even then only briefly. It seemed that these goblins who led their people were deep in thought regarding the warlock's actions.

It was strange to see the cunning and usually quite manipulative peoples so stunned into silence, but Nobu'tan felt that if there was ever the chance of an alliance between the goblins and the Order of the Black Harvest, now was the time.

He was led back to the same conference room as before, but the goblins did not retake their seats, rather standing with him by the door of the room. "This was something rather unexpected…" Sadz said, "And we are glad for your intervention in our behalf. The presence of such an artifact would only grow in strength and potentially corrupted others who came to that vault, causing untold havoc in its wake."

"The goblin nation will gladly consider themselves you allies," Gotts added, "whatever aid we can give, is yours."

"Thank you Director…" Nobu'tan said with a bow, "but for now I need our alliance to remain secret, so just continue as you have always done. When fire begins to rain from the sky, it will be the time for your people to barricade themselves underground, and wait for my return. Only then will it be safe for us to depart back to the world that I came from."

The goblins seemed uneasy by the pronouncement, but agreed to at least continue to act normally toward humans for the time being, and they would wait and see if what Nobu'tan declared would come to pass.

Nobu'tan left Gringotts feeling very accomplished, making sure to take another dose of his potion and donning Lucius' borrowed robes once more before reaching the lobby of the bank. It wouldn't do for Harry Potter to sudden appear in Diagon Alley with Headmaster Dumbledore's spies all around looking for him specifically.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was growing tired of staring at the same items for so long. Marginally he wondered if those that were spying on him were suspicious of his rouse, and was searching for where Harry might be nearby, when he spotted the old muggle in his father's robes outside the shop, walking casually onward, and knew that it was finally time to leave.

Exiting the shop without purchasing anything, Draco make sure to compose his face into something of disappointment, as those what he wanted as not in stock, but he hardly have needed to bother. The massive crowd gathered around the shop window had done well to block view into the shop, as everyone was busy eyeing the new and extremely expensive Firebolt. Draco had asked what the price was, and it was a staggering amount, even for the Malfoy vaults. But that was mainly because it was still in the prototype and testing phases, and even Draco knew that the price would go down to a reasonable level once the official debut of the broom, the Quidditch World Cup finals that were scheduled the next summer, took place.

He could feel the wizards in the crowd of shoppers watching him as he moved back toward the Leaky Cauldron, but there was little that they could do to a Malfoy in public, the reprisal from his father would be staggering. At least, that was what he had thought, when in passing the archway into the back room of the dingy tavern, Draco ran into someone that intentionally stepped in his way.

"Well well, if it isn't Lucius Malfoy's son," said a grizzled voice, and Draco looked up only to flinch back as a heavily scarred Alastor Mad-Eye Moody limped forward. "We have a few questions for you, if you'd be so kind…"

Draco could feel more Aurors closing in, and frantically searched for any excuse to get away, "You can just question me without my father present, that's illegal…" he said, only to grow slightly nervous when Moody just smiled. "Well, normally that would be the case, if we were using Veritaserum and the whole battery of tests to make sure you were telling the truth, but as this is just a chance meeting where we want a few quick words, we actually don't…"

And to prove his point, Moody's vice-like hand snapped out and grabbed Draco by the arm, neither overly roughly, but certainly not gently, and pulled the young warlock into the tavern, bypassing Tom and a few of the usual as he marched, clunking with every step, up to a private room.

"Inside please…" Moody growled, sounding more like a command than a request, and opened a door nearest the landing, the other Aurors standing on either side to prevent any escape.

Draco knew that this was indeed illegal, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, and if he resisted that would give Moody all the reason he needed to haul Draco to the Ministry and do exactly what he wanted, question him to the fullest extent of the law. It was a tactic that Draco had learned about from his father. So he did the only reasonable thing. He complied.

Stepping inside the rather run down and spotty room, Draco stood in one spot as Moody moved about, checking for any sources of magical scrying or eavesdropping that might be there. Draco momentarily studied that the old Auror was indeed as paranoid as the stories said, before the man turned both his normal and electric blue magical eye on him.

"Have a seat," he urged, gesturing at the chair by the small writing desk.

"If it's all the same to you, may I stand instead?" Draco said, eyeing the filthy chair with disdain.

"Whatever…" Moody said, before summoning the chair to himself and plopping down on it nosily. The man muttered something else, and Draco barely heard the phrase "like father like son…" somewhere in it, but chose to not respond. The quicker Moody was satisfied that he wouldn't get anything by intimidating Draco, the sooner he would be released.

Several silent moments seemed to drag on, but rather than grow impatient, as Moody obviously wanted, Draco merely got bored. "Well… do you plan to ask me questions or simply waste my time?" he asked, only a small touch of condescension in his voice.

"Yeah, we'll get to your questions… And you're going to answer them to the best of your ability, or else…" Moody started, but Draco was already going to beat him to the punch.

"Or else nothing, you lack legal authority to do anything more than ask. And before you even get started I have not seen or heard from Harry Potter since the end of last year when I left from Hogwarts. I expect that Dumbledore had said or done something with him, as he was looking rather angry when we all left the castle, and he had to stay…" he said scornfully, allowing a small amount of his true anger at that situation show, to be more convincing. Moody's eye might be able to see many things, but even he had to read faces the old fashioned way.

"Where were you and your family two nights ago?" Moody abruptly asked, another thing that Draco expected to be brought up, and to which he had a ready answer prepared. "We had been out of the country for over a week, at our second home in the French countryside; we only came back to all this news yesterday." In fact only Narcissa had been at the France home, precisely for such an investigation. She didn't completely approve of both the men in her life being wrapped up in such dark affairs again, but even she had admitted that Harry seemed a much more practical leader than the Dark Lord had ever been.

"Well be checking that…" Moody said, although even Draco knew the words were empty threats. Not only would the Aurors not be able to get past the wards on either of their properties, but they would need Ministry signed court orders to investigate, which would demand that the Minister had cause to suspect Lucius, which currently would never happen.

"As you wish…" Draco responded, making quite sure that Moody knew he wasn't intimidated. "Is that all? I really need to get home before my Mother worries…"

"Oh I bet your mother worries quite a lot these days…" the Auror said, flicking his wand at the door, which unlocked with a sharp click. Draco paused; he hadn't even heard when the door was locked originally. Not that he had expected to be able to flee if needed, but it was still impressive that such a thing had escaped his notice. "You're free to go, just keep your nose clean, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir…" Draco replied, uncaringly bored and almost wishing he could roll his eyes without looking like a common teenager.

As he made it to the door, however, Moody called him back, "Just one more thing Malfoy…" Draco turned, expecting some wild accusation, only to find the man almost right behind him, having moved completely silently across the floor.

"I just want your opinion on something," the man said as he placed a hand into his robe, and drew out something large like a ball, and wrapped in a thick cloth.

Draco froze his features in place as the still glowing chunk of infernal stone was revealed, the fel energy wafting soothingly into the air around them. "Know what this is?" Moody said, staring directly at Draco face for any sign of recognition at all.

Instead, Draco took a large step back, away from Moody and their piece of demonic construct. "I have no idea, but it feels awful." He said, wafting the air in front of him like trying to warn off a bad smell.

"Hmm," Moody said noncommittally, but put the stone away. "Very well, off with you, we have work to be done now and don't need a Hogwart's age kid running about underfoot."

Draco didn't need telling twice, but kept his composure as he walked gracefully down the stairs and to the public Floo entrance in the tavern. Taking only the smallest pinch needed, he Flooed directly home to the entrance hall, and tore out of the fireplace like a demon from a summoning ritual, dropping his soot stained cloak on the ground as he went. The House elves were used to cleaning that sort of mess quickly, and Draco couldn't waste any time in getting to the rest of the Order that was assembled and warning them that Mad-Eye Moody was investigating.

Nearly the entire group was assembled, they all seeming to spend the majority of their summer days here practicing and refining the arts of their Nether magic, but Draco sprinting past them, his eyes only on his own father and Harry, who seemed to be carefully going over and writing down a translation of the Grimoire of Merlin.

They turned however as Draco approached quickly. "What is it?" Harry asked, instantly recognizing the urgency in Draco's face.

Turning more toward his father, who would understand the gravity of the situation far more, and be able to explain it to Harry, Draco panted for a moment before speaking, "the Ministry has put Moody on the case of discovering who attacked the Department of Mysteries, and it seems likely that he got information from Dumbledore. He cornered me just outside the Leaky Cauldron and questioned me, even showing me a piece of infernal stone to try and see if I'd react."

Lucius froze, his body becoming stiff and eye narrowing in cold fury. "Naturally you gave him as little to go on as possible," the man replied, to which Draco nodded.

"I'm not sure I follow the gravity of this announcement," Nobu'tan said honestly, and Lucius turned to him to explain.

"Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody is the most well known and feared Auror on British soil," he said quickly, "the man is known for having the most Dark Wizards locked up in Azkaban because of his actions over any other. He is wily and quite dangerous in a fight and in an investigation…"

Meanwhile however, Draco turned to leave; he needed something to drink, and to change. It had been a far longer day of adventure than he had originally intended, and striving to not be found out by Britain's most infamous Auror was hard work.


	31. C30: Flight from Britain

**So, new chapter once again, and thank you to the people who reviewed C29, your thoughts were appreciated. Onward to the next chapter. As always, I hope that people enjoy reading these as much as I have in writing them. ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty**

 **Flight from Britain**

"I am certain that the Malfoy boy knew where Potter was," Alastor said, pausing momentarily in his jerky pacing through Albus' office. "That most assuredly needs to be the first place we investigate."

The Headmaster suspected this already, of course, but the same problem remained, "Alastor, we don't have the authority to just barge in and create a political incident in the attempt to locate Harry… or rather Nobu'tan…"

"Albus, stop calling him that, he's Harry Potter," Alastor grunted, "That was what he was named, and regardless of whatever he wants to call himself, you can't just change your identity as you please."

"I beg to differ on that Alastor, for a few small reasons," Albus countered, eager to change the subject away from attempting to just raid the Wiltshire manor home of the Malfoys, "Harry was taken from us so young, that he never grew into the identity that we knew him as. Harry is Nobu'tan, and it is by that strange name that he predominantly identifies with. I would be insulting to call him anything but what he truly identifies as…"

"Then should you be calling Voldemort by his preferred hyphenated titles then, by that logic?" Alastor sniped back, but Albus just shook his head.

"No, that is vastly different; Voldemort wants people to call him those ridicules titles, because it gives him power over them to inspire fear. Nobu'tan was the first name that Harry learned to identify himself with, and is by all accounts his name, regardless of what legally was given to him by Lily and James. It hurts no one to refer to Harry as his original name, especially if we are in company that we do not wish to know the truth as of yet."

"I suppose there could be a use to that…" the gruff man acquiesced, "but that still doesn't change the fact that we need to get into Malfoy Manor to find the boy."

"And I've told you countless times, unless you can get Ministry approval and bring Aurors to do the search by the book, we'll never survive the legal battle that Lucius will raise in response." Albus said with a sigh.

Most of the other dark families had willingly opened their homes for the search, even without a warrant from the Ministry, but the boy had not been found. Naturally, the Malfoys had demanded that such a document be presented before they allowed anyone onto their property, and then did everything in their power to prevent such a warrant from being acquired.

But there could be ways to alter that shortly, if some people had responded to Albus' letters of invitation into the Order of the Phoenix. They had grown frightfully low on willing members due to the war with Voldemort, and he had needed to reach out to other families that thought along the same lines that they did.

As if on cue, an owl limped through the air and into the Headmaster's office, crashing into more than landing on the table. The worn aspect of the poor bird left little wonder as to who it had come from. Taking the small scroll of parchment from the bird's leg, Albus scanned it quickly, before smiling in relief. "Alastor, I believe you have your warrant for the Malfoys…" he said simply.

"Arthur pulled through for us then?" Alastor demanded.

"It took time, but eventually he convinced Molly that they were needed to help us fight Voldemort, and that he would indeed return. You know how she is after losing both her brothers in the last war." Albus explained.

Alastor said nothing, more out of respect for the memory of Gideon and Fabian rather than a lack of sympathy. Albus knew that the three of them had been relatively close in ideals and commitment, and the old Auror wouldn't admit it, but the pair of brothers was probably the closest friends that the grizzled old warrior had ever had. Their loss had been felt strongly in all corners of the Wizarding world, and for old Mad-Eye, it was the breaking of his last real link to other people.

"Shall I go get the actual form and get Amelia to countersign, then?" the other man said after a few moments.

"Yes, do so, but be careful… if Nobu'tan is at Malfoy Manor, it is likely to be well defended, and they won't surrender him without a fight I believe." Albus said, sighing in defeat.

"Constant Vigilance Albus, Constant Vigilance…" the Auror said dismissively, stomping out of the room. For a long moment Albus simply watched the door as his close acquaintance departed, before several chirrups from Fawkes broke him from his deep thoughts. There was much to be done and little time to do it in.

Not to mention there was still the matter of Sirius Black's escape to deal with, and an irate Minister that was demanding to know where Harry Potter was so that they could help protect him from the supposed lunatic that was after him. Albus had his own thoughts on the matter, but he had never truly been in a position to stop what had occurred after the death of Lily and James, and his priority had been Harry, so he still felt rather guilty that he had been unable to help Sirius and learn the truth of what had happened, but not for a lack of trying.

He had petitioned for years to have several untried cases reexamined, but was rebuffed again and again by various officials on both sides of the argument. It was growing clear that in the matter of Harry Potter and his orphaning, the Wizarding World was satisfied with their story, and the truth wasn't something they were willing to learn, regardless of what it might be.

But the fact that Fudge wanted to place Dementors around Hogwarts to supposedly protect them from Black was insane, and highly distracting from what Albus knew should be his primary focus, making sure that Nobu'tan didn't do anything rash or destructive while he was so far out of Albus' careful watch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius felt the wards ripple in warning as invaders bearing the signals of the Ministry appeared at the edge of his property. "Looks like Dumbledore found a loophole to try and invade my home to search for you…" he commented aloud to Nobu'tan, who was with him and Lucius' family eating a small lunch in the smaller, intimate dining room.

"What shall we do, Lucius?" Nobu'tan replied, "move on with the plan to get me out of the country, or stand and fight?"

Lucius noted the respect that the leader of the Order of the Black Harvest was giving him in deferring to the owner of the manor for their defense, something that the Dark Lord would never do, and he thought for a moment. There was no way for the Aurors and whomever Dumbledore sent to approach except by ground or broom, which would both be rebuffed by the powerful wards around the manor itself.

"We can do both, after a fashion…" he responded, before turning to his wife, "Narcissa, you and Draco will need to leave for this, either the summer homes in Italy or France will do for the time being. I will contact you when it is safe…"

"I want to stay and help!" Draco said abruptly, but Lucius turned a small smile to his son.

"You will help most by leaving; we need to convince the Aurors that we had nothing to do with what is about to happen here, and a suitable story of us being out of the country will be needed." Draco looked disappointed, but nodded, "Don't worry, Draco, your time will come when your magic will be needed to fight other battle, but just not at this moment."

Stand and clapping his hands once, Lucius summoned all the Manor's house elves, "our home is threatened." He announced, and the look of terror on his servants was instant, "Lady Malfoy and my son are leaving for one of our summer homes, I need most of you to go with them and prepare whichever of the homes they choose, the rest will ward and lock away everything that the Ministry would disapprove of finding throughout the house, including those area normally off limits to elves. Dismissed."

The reaction was immediate, with a unified crack, all the elves disapparated to their tasks, already delegating among themselves who was to do what.

The wards tingled again in the back of Lucius' mind, signaling that the approaching Aurors were halfway to the Manor. Looking toward Nobu'tan, he nodded once, and the boy stood, walking swiftly to acquire the garb he had assigned himself for their business as warlocks.

"Be safe, my husband…" Narcissa said imploringly, taking him by the hand once the boy was out of sight. Lucius turned to look in the enchanting eyes of the woman he loved with all his heart, "I will be, now go swiftly," he urged, ushering both wife and son out of the dining room and toward the nearest fireplace. Only when they were safely away to the France home did he refocus completely on the task at hand. Conjuring illusions wrought of Fel magic and shadows, his beautiful aristocratic features melted away into the grisly, tusked visage of an orc, one of the powerful, albeit primitive beings of Nobu'tan's homeworld.

There was a tight balance that needed to be woven, and knowledge of the Malfoy family's direct involvement was not part of their plan. Nobu'tan returned, dressed as the brooding dark warlock that he truly was, albeit devoid of any sort of illusion to shroud his presence. Lucius' illusion even worked to change his voice to a low rasping growl, as he spoke, "It may not be wise to actually let the Ministry officials know that you were indeed here."

"I disagree Lucius," Nobu'tan replied, "let them think that, because I was invited here once, that I let myself in while your family was away, and made secret plans to attack the Ministry from here. In the end they will have to surrender the property back to you, when they find nothing of mine left…" he added, patting a pocket of his large robe.

"So you have agreed to attend Durmstrang in the meantime for this year," Lucius asked.

"I see little choice otherwise in the matter," the young warlock answered, even as they exited the front door of the Manor and spotted the approaching delegation of wizards.

Lucius was less than surprised to see Alastor Moody in the lead, stomping along with a scowl on what was left of his face. At his sides were Dawlish and Shacklebolt, both representing the interests of the Ministry and Dumbledore respectively, presumable, along with around ten other Aurors and a few Ministry flunkies. At the very back, Lucius could spot the red hair of Arthur Weasley, which explained why these ones felt that they could just waltz onto his property. He was glad he had decided on this plan, rather than just demanding a warrant, as they probably had one now.

"There you are Potter!" Moody called, and although Nobu'tan didn't react, Lucius could sense a coiling of magic around his body as the anger at the name surged through the young warlock. "Good, decided to just come quietly did you, alright, off with you, your relatives are worried about your well being after you up and ran from Hogwarts…"

"Quite the intricate lie, don't you think…" Nobu'tan said smoothly, looking sidelong at Lucius in his hunched and unappealing form. Playing his role well, Lucius laughed, sounding like stones being shaken in a bag. "I have told the Headmaster what I felt about his hospitality, and I will not be returning to his prison of a school anytime soon."

"Unfortunate for you then, isn't it," Moody retorted, "that Albus Dumbledore is you Magical Guardian, and therefore in charge of you wellbeing and care, which means he directly has control of where you are or are not supposed to be or go during whatever time he pleases. For your safety in these troubled times, he has determined that the safest place for you is at Hogwarts. So whether you like it or not, son, you are coming back to the school with us, now…"

"I think not…" Nobu'tan replied again, raising his arms and conjuring Fel flames within his palms. Moody moved like lightning, firing a stunner at the boy, but the warlock expected the counter attack, ducking out of the way as he brought both hands forward, unleashing small waves of flame upon the knot of Ministry workers, who scattered for cover.

" _Rise my minions, devour them all_!" Nobu'tan bellowed in the language of the demons, and the ground erupted with the Felguards that had been positioned to defend the Manor from all attack. Felhounds ran amok, siphoning off magic and preventing the Aurors from effectively casting their spells, leaving many to fall prey to the swinging axes of the Legion's warriors.

Quite a few of the grunt Aurors were at a complete loss as to what to do, and a pair were easily crush by the surprise attack, but to Lucius' great annoyance, Moody was able to react like the wind, his wand working great arcs as he leapt to the side, sending blasting and bludgeoning curses in every direction, already quickly prioritizing targets on the Felhunters over the Felguards, and rallying the rest of his group to do the same.

The itch to draw his wand and slay some of these fools was palpable, but Lucius resisted, as doing so would tip their hand far too soon to the enemy, and engaging directly was to be decided upon by Lord Nobu'tan alone. For the boy's part, he stood stock still and watched the scene unfold with a small smile.

They had already decided that, to make it seem convincing that the Malfoys were indeed not present, that certain amounts of destruction of the grounds had to be allowed, and once all the hounds were slain and the attackers were starting to focus completely on the Felguards, shields and powerful curses coming heavily to bear again the towering demonic soldiers, he acted.

Raising the staff in his hands to the sky, Nobu'tan chanted a short incantation of demonic words, and the entire rune covered piece of wood glowed the eerie fel green of the Legion's magic, even as a storm cloud of green was conjured into existence. Having seen this occur back in the Department of Mysteries, Lucius knew what was coming, but only a handful of the Aurors had a clue.

"Get down!" Dawlish shouted, even as the Infernal Meteorites crashed into the grounds of Lucius' manor, impacting hard and created three massive craters in the once beautiful landscaping. The house elves would not be pleased to have to fix that damage… then again they'd probably be overjoyed for more work, Lucius thought with a suppressed snort of amusement.

The hulking Infernals rose over even the height of the Felguards, and roared their strange incoherent cries, before lumbering somewhat awkwardly toward the Aurors. To support the newly conjured Infernals, Nobu'tan also summoned several swarms of imps, when ran gleefully into the melee, arms full of flame to pelt their opponents with.

"I believe I've made my point," Nobu'tan said aloud to no one in particular, "We shall be going now, but I hope you enjoy yourselves without me…" once again the staff raised to open a portal out of the country, but Lucius saw Moody drop the attacker he was fighting, before whirling on the boy while his back was turned.

Lucius had no way of preventing it as three different spells spat from Moody's wand, knocking the staff from Nobu'tan's hand and striking the boy in the back. His cloak shimmered, preventing the full effects of two stunners, but it left Nobu'tan supremely angry as he staggered forward, before revolving slowly to face Moody, fire in his eyes and creeping up from his hands, the blazing orange and tint of green within casting shadows around him.

"That was most foolish of you…" was all he said before stepping toward the old Auror, reeling back to hurl devastation at his foe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor had not expected the boy to be able to put up much of a fight on his own. Yes, through Albus he had expected the demonic creatures, among other things, which was why he had insisted that Amelia send the very best of her Aurors to investigate, citing the attack on the Department of Mysteries as his reference, and that had panned out well. Only three or four had gone down, and even those noncombatants like Arthur Weasley were holding their own against the small shrieking creatures and the huge rock golems.

But once Potter joined the fray himself, all bets were off. Fire leapt from the boy in torrents, scorching the very earth beneath them as he flung spheres and waves of flame of Alastor, trying to wash over his hasty and powerful shields. The boy was inherently powerful, that much was certain, but there was still a certain lack of refinement in his attacks that he could potentially exploit. What truly worried Moody was the last figure, which had yet to do anything of note. The hideous thing which Aurors had described back in the Ministry, and Moody had seen before.

He refused to be caught off guard by the creature, or Death Eater in disguise that it might also be, so he made sure to place his footing to keep the attacking boy between him and the creature, allowing his magical eye to focus on either side and behind him for other potential adversaries that might interfere, even as his wand became a storm itself, catching and redirecting some of the fire that was throw back at the boy, opening a small window that Moody used to pour as many spells as he could, regardless of their effect, at the boy, in effort to knock him from the stance of aggressor.

What the boy did was quite unexpected, even for the grizzled Auror. A small dagger flashed in the light, even as the boy cut his own arm deeply, the blood flowing even as magic was poured out of the wound, creating a barrier around the figure, absorbing and nullifying every spell that Alastor sent at him, before Potter immediately went back on the attack, ignoring whatever spells happened to fly at him in favor of pushing the offense.

Alastor was forced to dodge when a powerful bolt of raw chaotic magic was hurled at him, impacting the ground with a concussive blast, and had to back away again as fire started rain down in spheres from above him, in a miniaturized storm.

Had the magic not been tainted with some unfathomable evil, Moody would have been more than a touch impressed with the skill that performing such abilities must have taken, but fighting for his life left little time for philosophical thinking. That was one thing that Alastor did not understand how Albus managed to do, even to the point of carrying on a debate with his opponent mid duel.

Even for this small bit of reflection, Alastor paid dearly as a spell slipped through his defenses, burning like angry welts running along his insides. He grunted, feeling the pain actually intensify over time rather than diminish, and momentarily wondered why he had been no spell flash had been visible, but had to shield again as more flames soared through the air.

Snarling in irritation, Moody was forced to withdraw to the rest of the Aurors, who were still fighting the hordes of tiny flame-wielding creatures, blasting a pair aside as he moved. Potter was stronger than he gave the boy credit, and the presumption had cost him this victory. "Portkeys!" he called, watching as the dozen wizards fished in their robes for a moment, before one by one vanishing in a swirl of color.

Sparing a final glance back at the boy, who was smirking amid the fire and devastation he had caused, the rest of the demonic creatures gathering around him in a defensive circle. "This isn't the end, runt," Moody said, even as he snapped the small twig that served as his portkey back to the Ministry.

"I look forward to it, wizard…" Potter replied in equal contempt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan watched the last of the attacking wizards flee from him, knowing that indeed Alastor Moody was one worthy of his attention. Old and withered though he might have been, the old Auror was still feisty and reasonably powerful. He clearly also had connections to Dumbledore, who was learning the power of the Arcane. So it was reasonable to presume that the next time he faced Moody, and it would be in addition to the arts of a Mage, combined with his already powerful wizarding skills.

"A worthy battle indeed…" he said softly to himself.

"It is past time to leave," Lucius said from his position near the front of the Manor, unmoved from when the battle began, as he was instructed. Nobu'tan nodded, the man was indeed correct. Returning to where his staff had fallen, the young warlock began the ritual for a portal once again, thinking of the place that he had been shown in memory from Lucius. The icy mountains were swirled with snow even in summer this far north, where the hidden Institute of Magic known as Durmstrang was hidden from the prying eyes of others.

Learning the new language of these northerners would be relatively simple, having already mastered the English language with the assistance of wizard's magic, and there would be far more opportunities for his personal activities without prying eyes such as Dumbledore here to hinder him. Lucius had already dispelled his illusion by the time they arrived at the gates of the magical school, but Nobu'tan retained his warlock robes and ornaments, distinguishing himself as something more than just an ordinary student here for enrollment.

Whatever magic kept these wards, powered by far fewer lines than Hogwarts, disappointingly so, but it still functioned to notify whoever was acting as Headmaster that there were guests inside their school.

Within minutes of their entering the first hall, someone appeared from a side room. "Welcome to Durmstrang," the man said with a thick accent to his English, "How can our school be of service to… Lucius?"

"Hello, Igor…" the British Aristocrat replied, starting down at the rather poorly kept man, despite the trappings of a Headmaster about him, "I am here to gauge where your true loyalties lie, as well as secure a place in your school for someone very important to our future."

"My… my Loyalties?" the pitiful man stuttered, not even bothering to look at Nobu'tan, let alone recognize him under the deep hood of his garb. "I… I do not know what you mean Lucius…"

"You know exactly what I mean Karkaroff… we are they who wish to oppose the Dark Lord if and when he returns, you have every reason to assist us if you value your worthless and indeed pitiful life…" Lucius said, going straight for the kill. "You will offer Mr. Potter a place in your school, to protect him from those who wish to control and demand his future, and allow him free reign to go and do as he pleases here. There will be no distraction from your normal operations I assure you…"

"Mr. Potter?" Karkaroff said, finally turning to look at Nobu'tan, "are you really?"

"Perhaps I am, and perhaps it is merely a rouse, but what harm will it do to you to allow my presence here. I am one who serves neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort, and have power enough to combat any threat that may arise here." Nobu'tan countered, enjoying watching the man's mind spin out of control.

Unleashing a small amount of Fel energy had the other man shivering as he responded, "Alright, I understand that you have given me no choice, I will allow this person, whether he be Mr. Potter or not, to stay at Durmstrang. I presume you will attend at least some classes, and by and large act as a normal student?"

"At times…" Nobu'tan replied, "I have much work that will take my time away from such things, but there is always more of _your_ magic that I may wish to learn of. Lucius and others from Britain may come occasionally to meet with me here, but otherwise I will keep mostly to myself, and will require space to that effect, preferably somewhat distant from others."

"It will be done," the man said, stuttering slightly as he gazed sidelong at Lucius. The man still feared his old comrades, and Nobu'tan smirked at the irony that he was completely unaware of the true threat in the room, centered solely upon Nobu'tan himself.

They were led through the rather small castle, when compared to the likes of Hogwarts, up to one of the towers on the fourth and highest floor, where there was a large guest chamber that was carefully placed behind an enchanted statue guardian, which Nobu'tan was permitted to instruct on how to defend his quarters. Several words in orcish were set as a sort-of password, and any others that attempted to force entry, without special permission from the Headmaster himself, would be physically attacked by the guardian, which was some sort of magical creature enchanted out of the stone.

Afterward, with Karkaroff gladly spouting all the benefits of attending Durmstrang Institute of Magic, the trio of magic wielders toured the halls and classrooms, all abandoned with the summer currently upon them, but with the end of July coming upon them, things were in full swing to begin the next round of students that would walk the halls and learn. Several Professors were passed as they walked, but only a few stopped and spoke with them, and none were of any particular note to Nobu'tan.

It was quaint, and Nobu'tan could tell that there would be little time out of this castle for a while. But there was nothing that truly kept him here, not that any of that information needed to be shared with this pathetic man, who would do little more than grovel at even Lucius' feet. "All is quite acceptable, given the circumstances…" Nobu'tan said as they returned to the main hall, "I will remain for a time to settle, and come and go as I please…"

Karkaroff still looked to Lucius before answering, "that should be no problem young man…"

Lucius nodded, "You know how to get in contact if you need anything," he said, before turning toward the entrance. Karkaroff remained until Lucius was out of sight. "Make yourself at home, Mr. Potter…" he said with a false sense of invitation, before simply walking away to where the warlock suspected that the man's office was located.

Ignoring the false platitudes, Nobu'tan returned to his high tower room, examining the rather sparse furnishing, not that he needed much in the way of comfort, used to much less in the tent of Gul'dan. Of much greater importance was the fact that he had all the free space he needed for his magical pursuits and some.

Withdrawing the wizard wand from his robes, Nobu'tan repaired and cleaned everything with a single wave of the small stick. Throwing open the window; he banished what snow was collecting on the small ledge, throwing up a charm that would repel any more from collecting there. Now that he was freely out of Dumbledore's grip, he had no qualms of using his supreme knowledge of their magic to his benefit, and soon enough all his things were sent flying about to appropriate locations in the room, setting themselves up and even magical fire being lit within the fireplace and under the massive cauldron he had acquired to replace the one left at Hogwarts.

Karkaroff had mentioned something about fire being restricted to magical purposes only, but Nobu'tan didn't care what the pathetic man had to say or for his rules. He was a student in name here only, and would actually be hard at work to prepare for the advent of the Legion, and claim his reward from the demonic masters that he must serve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco waited with his Mother at their family home in France, waiting for the commotion in Wiltshire to finally die down, and soon enough Lucius did indeed return to them. "The Aurors are back at the Manor, and the second part of our plot may begin. Prepare yourselves; for I fear Moody will more than likely be snooping about as usual."

Both Narcissa and Draco nodded, and together they took the floo back to their ancestral home. Mercifully the battle did not extend to their inside of their house, but stepping out to the grounds, where Aurors were swarming around looking for even the smallest remnant of what could only have been the demons that fell in battle. "You there!" barked a man, and the three Malfoys turned with equal looks of disdain as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody stomped toward them.

"Malfoy!" he roared, drawing his wand as he approached, but Lucius stood his ground.

"What is the meaning of this!" Lucius said coldly back, "what are you all doing here on the steps of my home?"

"Like you don't already know…" Moody spat back, "you probably let the boy right through your wards at any time, to come and go as he pleased, and summoning dark creatures to do his bidding as well…"

"I would never… I haven't a clue to what you are raving, Mad-Eye…" Lucius replied, grey eyes staring into the electric blue of Moody's crazed magical eye.

"The Potter boy, the one you let stay at your home last year, was apparently back while your family was conveniently away, conjuring creatures to do his bidding and living like a king in your home, only to vanish when the Ministry showed up to search your house for him. Very suspicious indeed, that you had rebuffed any attempt to come investigate until there was no choice, and then just happen to not be there when the surprise investigation was to take place."

"How can that be more than coincidence?" Lucius retorted, "I obviously could not know that you were returning, and it is common knowledge that we go abroad during the summer months, now that we only have so much time to spend with our son. How dare you accuse me of anything with no proof! Why should I not have the wards expel the lot of you this instant?"

"This, Malfoy," Moody said, tossing the head of a Felguard at the feet of the three Malfoys. Narcissa, who had not seen any of the demons that Draco, Lucius or the others could summon, wilted somewhat on the spot at the presence of the fel magic, and Draco had to support her as they moved back toward the door of the manor.

"Take that… thing, away this instant, you are upsetting my wife!" Lucius roared his anger palpable and very real. Actors though they are were well trained to be, Draco knew full well that his parents fiercely loved each other, and that his father did everything in his power to protect and shelter his wife from the darker aspects of what he went and did, both when he followed Voldemort and now.

Another Auror came and collected the demonic skull from the ground, packing it as evidence, but Moody continued to watch the three Malfoys for any sign of deception. That point at least was where Draco and Narcissa's reactions were paramount, and why Lucius insisted that they leave and not see what happened to the grounds of their home. As they slowly went about and took account of the damage, their reactions were genuine, as they were experiencing what happened here for the first time.

While naturally they knew everything would easily be repaired by magic, it was still a shock to see the level of devastation that one small skirmish with the demonic legion could produce in a short amount of time. Eventually Moody finally was forced to conclude his investigation, especially with Lucius continual pushing that they were uninvited upon private property, but the scarred man warned them that more Aurors may yet return to follow up; basically another threat for them to not try anything suspicious.

"Is Mr. Potter safe?" Narcissa asked once the last Auror vanished into a swirl of blue Portkey magic.

"Yes, and well out of the way for whatever Dumbledore desired for him this year…" Lucius responded, "We will keep in touch and he may yet return to visit from time to time, but otherwise we need to be aloof of his movements, which include preparing Draco to return to Hogwarts for this coming year."

Draco was not pleased with this news, but understood that he was not longer able to act like a selfish child anymore. He had stepped into an adult's responsibility, and had to take on duties such that fit the station, and currently that was protecting the Order's leader through deception and distraction. And he would see this mission fulfilled, he was prepared for that much at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione had waited quite patiently for the first half of the ride back to Hogwarts upon the Express on the appointed day of September the First. She knew that seeking out Harry usually was not in favor of what the mysterious Ravenclaw desired, and if he sought her companionship, typically he would find her. If he was delaying that meeting, either he was busy with his Slytherin friends, or else he was not there at all, which was absurd naturally. Who in their right mind would purposefully abandon their magical education at Hogwarts…?

Even as she thought that however, Hermione knew that of anyone in the school, Harry would fit the standpoint closest, but still she rejected the idea. Hogwarts stood on the most populace set of leylines in the country, and for most of the regions round about. Magic was powerful here, especially from the arcane aspect of things; there was little reason that the boy wouldn't want to come back at the least to tap into that source of power once again.

It had been odd to receive no letters from him, but still Hermione had been away, traveling with her muggle parents to various locations and doing many activities. Then there was the lack of an owl in the possession of the Ravenclaw, so perhaps he simply hadn't been able to send her anything.

After some time, she did grow restless, and decide to break the presupposed protocol and seek out Harry, starting by locating the Slytherin faction that had gravitated to the boy. They were not difficult to find, as they glowed slightly in the power of the Arcane, although with a far different light than Hermione had witnessed in those she had assisted in training. It was mildly unpleasant, but she presumed that the aura was different based on the sort of person, and their personal inclinations into the magical arts.

"Draco…" she greeted casually, curious to note that not one of the boys here even so much as sneered at her, merely glancing with neutral expressions.

"Granger…" the blond replied, "If you're looking for Harry, he is not here…"

"I could see that, but do you know where on the train he went?" Hermione continued, not interpreting what the boy had said at first.

"No, I mean he is not here, on the train… Harry did not come back to Hogwarts… he's disappeared, again…"

"I…" Hermione started, even as the verbal blow settled into her stomach. It flew in the face of everything she had projected for the possible outcomes of this year. Without Harry, how could she advance as a mage at a rate better than a crawl? For all she knew, Dumbledore had outstripped her already, and she really wanted to be the best, as she had been the first of the new Mages. "Where could he be?" she asked after a moment of processing.

"We have no idea," Draco said slowly, "but we suspect it had something to do with Dumbledore and his manipulations…"

Hermione started to defend the Headmaster, but stopped herself. Not only was it merely their collective opinion, but there had been a few instances where Hermione herself suspected that something was going on between the Ravenclaw and the Headmaster. "…perhaps that is possible, but should we also look into other options?"

"There's this too…" Theodore Nott stated, handing her a copy of the Daily Prophet. She had not had the opportunity yet to acquire a subscription to the newsprint, and scanned the headline with dawning horror.

 _Dark Creatures attack Ministry and Malfoy Manor, Boy-Who-Lived suspected target of kidnapping_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

Hermione read the rather short and surprisingly scanty article rapidly, her fear growing within her. Apparently some sort of gang of creatures, ones that the Ministry has never encountered or seen before, attacked the Department of Mysteries, presumable to steal a prophecy or some other object from within, which they apparently claimed as the vanished from within the department, observed by over half a dozen Aurors who were battling the minions of these unknowns. Days later, the same creatures were seen at the residence of Draco's family, mercifully while the Purebloods were away on vacation, and kidnapped Harry, who had been staying at the spacious Manor for reasons unknown. Aurors dispatched again were thwarted by a horde of evil creatures using magic unknown to any of them present, disappearing with Harry in tow.

"This is horrible…" she said as she lowered the paper to look at the other boys. She had a suspicion as to what the creatures might have been after, if their strange and dark magic was anything to go by. Harry was a natural in the magical arts, and gifted beyond belief in the nature of the Arcane. Was it possible that these creatures wanted to use him for some nefarious purpose?

"What can we hope to do about it though?" Blaise Zabini said casually, gesturing at them all, "We're just students, and I'm sure Dumbledore and the Ministry is already doing everything in their power to find him…"

"There might be something that we can do…" Hermione said, thinking hard. With the right number of Arcane magic users, and some groundwork in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, which she already had from the books for both classes she was taking, there might be something.

All five of the Slytherin boys looked suspicious at the look that dawned over her face, "We are twelve, four sets of three…" she said, already plotting what would be needed.

"You not contemplating some sort of ritual, are you?" Draco asked hesitantly, "it wouldn't be advisable, as the Ministry outlawed the majority of ritual magic long ago."

"But they have no precedent on the Arcane, now do they?" she countered, which seemed to peak all of their interest, "Just hear me out first…" and she began to explain her idea slowly, trying to contain her excitement.

When she finished, they all sat in silence for a time, "It might work, but you'd need to mix us thoroughly with your group, as you probably could tell our training is somewhat… different from you and yours. But I think a mutual venture in locating Harry might be something that our two organizations could come together on."

Hermione wasn't sure why Draco was making it seem as though normally they ought to be at odds with each other, but she readily accepted the willing help, "When shall we make the attempt?"

"The first Hogsmeade weekend?" Theodore Nott suggested, "it will be easier with the castle clear of anyone that might interrupt or intrude…"

"I also know the perfect location for the ritual." Hermione added, smiling. They might do what the Ministry could not even dream of attempting. It was only a pity that they had to wait two whole months to perform the ritual, but Hermione agreed to the need for secrecy. There were still many unknowns about the Arcane, and the less people that knew the better for now.


	32. C31: A Flurry of Moves

**Thanks greatly to those people that keep up the steady stream of reviews, encouragement is well needed and appreciated. Enjoy the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty One**

 **A Flurry of Moves**

Sirius was very cold, but for the first time since escaping Azkaban it had nothing to do with the weather. Running across the country as a large, Grim-like dog had both its advantages and disadvantages, but one of which he was most appreciative was that, in the right setting, he could easily rummage through people's rubbish for scraps of food and the occasional paper. Luckily, finding wizarding homes was rather easy for him, as he could smell out the magic when in his animagus form, therefore getting editions of the _Daily Prophet_ kept him abreast of the pitiful attempts that the Ministry was making to recapture him.

Dementors at Hogwarts were something of a bigger problem, but he would experience that horror again gladly if it meant saving Harry from the rat, and he continued making headway up toward Scotland, being extremely careful to not attract attention to himself along the way. That was, until he found news that gnawed at him to the very bone. Harry had been kidnapped from the Malfoy's home in Wiltshire, taken by unknown creatures and had never been seen before, and the paper was something like two or three weeks old at the best.

Sirius had frozen with uncertainty. Should he continue with the original plan and try to get at Peter, hiding in the castle all warm and cozy as a pet, or should he abandon the rat as he ought to have so long ago and seek Harry? Even if he did, what good could he do in this state, starving and tired, with no idea where to even start his search?

Whining pitifully in his canine form, Sirius laid down in an attempt to organize his thoughts. Dumbledore had to be working extra hard to find Harry even as he sat here, but Sirius was the boy's godfather, there had to be something he could do to protect the son of his best friend.

Perhaps there was no alternative; Sirius had to reveal himself to someone, preferably Dumbledore himself. The Headmaster was a good man; he'd at least hear Sirius out before throwing him back to the Dementors, right? There were no other options, aside from abandoning Harry again to the winds of fate and going off on his own personal crusade on Peter, but Sirius had to man up and do what he had promised to do when the adorable baby boy was first shown to him.

One of the few good memories that the Dementors couldn't touch, Sirius remembered the squirmy little ball of fat and giggles that had immediately seized locks of his long black hair and tugged as hard as the little boy could, causing a bark of laughter to erupt from his new godfather, and endearing the baby to Sirius forever. The little tyke had been a prankster from the start, always getting into mischief, much to the chagrin of his parents, and only slightly encouraged by Sirius…

He had never thought he would hear the end of it when he gave the one-year-old a toy broomstick for his first birthday, but oh how Harry had loved that thing, zooming around two or three feet off the ground at speeds that made Lily and James' heads spin. What a natural on a broom. So many wonderful days after Harry was born, all ruined by an act of betrayal at the lowest level, by one that ought to have been their friend.

The thought of the rat and the damage he had caused to Harry, well beyond what had befallen Sirius cemented his nerve. He would go to Dumbledore, and beg to be heard out, plead his case of innocence and demand to be allow to help find his godson, it was the best that he could do, and he prayed that the old Headmaster would find some of the truth to his words, instead of just handing him back to the Ministry.

Turning toward Scotland again, Sirius set off at a faster pace, knowing that time was of the essence now, if he was to help find Harry before whatever horrible madness occurred that tore the boy's already sundered life apart even further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was pleasantly surprised to find that the majority of the staff and students at Durmstrang spoke English, albeit with difficulty, but that only emboldened him further to learn the various languages that were spoken by the different groups of north-eastern European wizards that attended the school.

Most prevalent were Russian speakers, with smatterings of smaller countries' local languages mixed within. The largest of these sub groups had to be Bulgarian, and so Nobu'tan decided to mark those two as the languages of choice for him to learn, and tailored his charms appropriately. The reaction of the student body to his presence on the other hand was diverse and altogether interesting. There were many of them that clearly had never seen a British citizen before, and were intrigued, while a few more actually realized who had entered their school, and were star struck at the famous Harry Potter wandering their halls.

Both of these groups Nobu'tan ignored, as they were beneath him, and focused on those portions of classes that he had not been able to take at Hogwarts, namely the opposite side of their pathetic Defense against the Dark Arts class. Naturally, the instructors at Durmstrang didn't actually teach their pupils to cast and use the darker aspect of magic, but did teach them about it without sugarcoating anything, or glazing over it with a focus on countercharms and shields, calling it a weak and pathetic excuse if there ever was one.

So there was at least one advantage to attending the northern school then, although some of the staff remained wholly ignorant of the situation with Nobu'tan. They thought incorrectly that he was a typical student, and attempted to enforce the school uniform of heavy furs and bright reds upon him, which naturally Nobu'tan did not own. Not that he was opposed to the robes, which would have been the most like his old clothing back in Azeroth, but that would have required submitting to their authority.

Nobu'tan served no one except his master Gul'dan, and only indirectly through him the Legion, none others had any claim over him, and a display of his raw power was usually enough to counter any arguments these thick accented witches and wizards had against his proclamation.

Of course, the theatrics were twofold in purpose. First, in dissuading the Professor at Durmstrang from thinking that they had any ounce of control or authority over the warlock, and second to demonstrate his superior powers to the other students, who in time would start to approach him with the desire to learn the ways of Fel magic.

The lure of power was inevitable, and for the first few weeks there was nothing else that he did, aside from simply infusing the magic of the school with his own aura, and work on fine turning his side projects: enchanting, inscription and alchemy.

Granted, he was sure that inevitable there'd be some sort of conflict within the first month between him and another student, as he could sense some of the resentment that was directed at him, for walking about in his black warlock robes rather than being forced to conform to their school rules, among other things that were quite obviously different.

So it came as no surprise that eventually one of the oldest, and largest, male Russian students decided to take a stand against the seemingly runty English boy that had entered his domain and asserted some measure of authority.

Nobu'tan's Russian was still rather shaky, and he only applied the charms while in classes to understand the Professors, so he wasn't completely sure what the older boy was shouting at him, but it clearly was a challenge of sorts as the boy had his wand in his hand, sparks flying from the end of it.

Sighing more to himself than anyone else, Nobu'tan raised his hands in a combative gesture, before smirking at the confusion on his opponents face. Said confusion melted into fear as the flames of Fel fire started to leap from Nobu'tan skin at him in waves, hastily batted aside by a raised shield charm. It was a spell that these wizards relied far too much on, and Nobu'tan frowned in annoyance as his fire was absorbed or deflected.

The other students scattered to not be hit by stray magic, even as the Russian boy attempted to retaliate, throwing a small barrage of spells at Nobu'tan from his wand, but the warlock was not concerned. A barrier of ice and frost leapt into being around him, the magical shield withstanding the bombardment, and allowing Nobu'tan the time needed to outmaneuver and counterattack the older boy, tactics switching from the Fel to spells of pure magic, summoning blasts of pure Arcane to unsettle his charms and spells layered protectively around him, before a precision strike of darkness punched through the weakened magic and struck the boy weakly in the chest, still knocking him back and opening him up for further attack.

But rather than rely solely on magic, Nobu'tan rushed the boy, getting inside his range of fist or spell in a flash, with a cruel-looking dagger pressed threateningly against the Russian's throbbing neck, the energy of the Legion leaking off of Nobu'tan as he breathed heavily, "You are beaten," he declared, even as the terrified boy held perfectly still, fear of losing his life palpable to everyone present.

"I am no pathetic schoolboy, but a fully realized warlock, and will be treated with the respect that I have earned in fire and magic, even by you…" Nobu'tan hissed in English, knowing full well that this one understood perfectly, even if he was more comfortable speaking his own language. "Am I understood?"

The boy nodded hastily, and Nobu'tan withdrew the dagger from his throat, leaping back a pace to prevent any sort of surprise attack to continue their conflict.

But it seemed the precaution was unnecessary, as the Russian wizard was so shocked and frightened by Nobu'tan's quick reflexes that he staggered back, clutching his throat where the dagger had left a small prick that was welling up a drop of blood. Nobu'tan couldn't understand the rapid flow of words from the boy's mouth, but he could guess at the content being something about him and being insane, a typical response to being bested in such a manner.

Rather than remain the object of everyone's abject terror, as much as that was appropriate, Nobu'tan simply left, exiting one of the few common areas for the students and returning up to his personal tower room. One of the points that the boy had been making was why, even as one of their own celebrities that attended the school lived with the other boys in the massive common room, that the famous Harry Potter got his own room to himself, which was naturally absurd for him to complain about; if he was even remotely important, than he too would have receive the same treatment.

There was another very important reason that he was given such a privilege as well, which sat in the open as Nobu'tan entered and glanced at the large desk he was provided with. The Grimoire of Merlin lay there, innocently glittering with its own light, half a dozen pages of translation copied by Nobu'tan's own hand next to it.

Naturally, the Grimoire spoke in great detail about the powerful Guardian, and some of his greatest accomplishments, as well as the might of the mystical place of Avalon, and the witch Morgan that was supposedly trapped between there and this world. Currently in his reading of the tome, Nobu'tan was getting close to pinpointing a possible location for the entrance of such a realm, but he was hesitant to even attempt to cross the might of a guardian, just in case this Merlin was anything close to the power of Medivh, whom even Gul'dan was not willing to cross.

Still, it seemed that according to all wizarding folklore, indeed the location was in what was now called Glastonbury, on the small isle of land in the marshes, but to access the sacred realm of magic, there was a particular ritual that mortals had to undergo to enter, which the ancients oftentimes performed to travel to and from the protected place and the world of mortals.

The ritual was coming to him, page by page as he deciphered the tome, but it was intricate, and would require the assistance of the entire Order of the Black Harvest to accomplish, wielding both wizards magic and a touch of the Fel to overwhelm some of the protections and tests that were mentioned guarding the land from any invaders.

His progress had been sent in a letter to Lucius, letting him know of the massive leap forward that they had made so quickly, before the young warlock distracted himself with several potions that he was working on, frustratingly more simple that he felt he was capable of, but he lacked the instruction on what specific combinations would produce better potions based on the Azerothian methods, which was decidedly irritating, and emphasized how much his learning was stunted until he returned to the land of his Master.

Even as he attempted to concentrate on the fumbling potions before him, Nobu'tan found himself gazing out the window across the dark snow covered land, wishing for the lush green of Azeroth and the warm fire of Gul'dan tent, where things felt safe and made sense. He felt a twinge of fear that he would be too late to return to the old orc's side, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he was already gone. The words he had heard back in the Department of Mysteries rang in his mind, almost taunting him with the same ideas.

Quashing the thought angrily, Nobu'tan steeled himself. There was much he would do, to advent the Legion if he had to, in vengeance if his master had fallen. He was heir of the most powerful warlock in the known worlds, and he would triumph where Gul'dan failed if the old orc had died. And if not, together they would bring darkness and destruction to many worlds, just as they had planned to from the beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor had not been idle since being forcefully dismissed from the grounds of Malfoy Manor, carefully and quickly investigating every action that was available about Harry Potter and the Malfoys since the boy reappeared on the scene of the Wizarding World on his eleventh birthday, greatly aided in this endeavor by Albus. Technically he would be a private investigator at this point, as while he was loosely affiliated with the Ministry, his retirement dictated that there was only so much official business that he could handle, and he was used up quite a bit of his leeway already, so he was more or less on his own at the present moment.

Naturally, he started with Godric's Hollow, where the boy had apparently fallen out of the sky into the old room that he had once lived in as a toddler. The layers of dust had grown, but it was clear where things had been shifted by a hand or foot. With his now limited abilities in the arts of the Arcane, Albus having finally gotten around to teaching Alastor some of the fundamentals, the grizzled old Auror was able to see some things that went otherwise overlooked when the Headmaster first investigated this place.

Even now, two years after the event, the location was still saturated with a lingering haze of both arcane and another, far more vile magic, undetectable except to those who had already felt them before, radiating down from the bedroom where the boy had appeared from. Whatever had brought him to this place had been a titanic amount of magic, both in scope of power and in creative art of use. Moody would wager quite a bit that there were far more powerful Arcane users from the place that the boy came from than he himself was, but the primary question that the Auror had was why did the boy get sent back here, not necessarily how.

From the boy's apparent obsession with portals, it was clear that he was more than eager to return from where he was sent from, while ruled out, in the Auror's mind, that either his coming here was accidental, or a punishment that he was opposed to. Even still, that was only part of the madness that he discovered. In questioning Albus regarding the house, the Headmaster produced the small white stone, carved with an unfamiliar rune atop it, which to Alastor's keen senses, radiated with the same faint magic that had supposedly brought the boy here.

"This is the key," he said, lifting the stone from Albus' hand, "This is how Potter was sent back here from wherever he was. Understanding this rune will help us in our efforts to make out their power, and how we can fight him…"

"From what best I can guess," Albus replied, "It simply means 'home,' or 'hearth,' and I somehow doubt that there is much that can be gleaned from that…"

"Not much? Albus, that is extremely important!" Alastor said, wanting to reach over and shake the old man by the shoulders. "Not only is that such a basic form of magic, which we do not possess naturally but still, it sets a fantastic baseline of what might be considered normal for the boy…"

Stumbling to his feet in excitement, Alastor started to pace the room, his false leg stomping with every other step. Again and again he turned the little stone over in his hand, both his enchanted eye and the real one, now attuned to seeing the magic of the Arcane, focused intently on it, "Yes, I can see how ridiculously simple the enchantments are here. Albus, this is a completely different level of magic than we are accustomed to…"

He paused, before turning to look in the blue eyes of his mentor and friend, "Albus… you are being far too reckless with this boy…" he said flatly, even as he contemplated what the Headmaster had planned in his attempts to rein in the free spirit of Potter from what he had been told. "You fool, thinking that you had an ounce of control the moment that the boy learned to speak English…"

At least the old man had the decency to bow his head in acknowledgement of his faults. "I know. A heavy hand I thought was required, but not in the sense of retraining him… it's too late for that now, and we need to find where he has hidden himself."

"The Malfoys know, I could tell from that proud peacock's smirk as we left, but there's no way of making them talk. I wouldn't doubt that Potter's taught them some of his perverse magic as well…" Alastor quipped, still stung by the Pureblood and his superiority complex.

"We have to wait for one of those under his influence to make the attempt to contact him." Albus said simply, "I fear that even away from our sight, he is plotting something unknown and sinister… I can sense it…"

Alastor saw the man unconsciously take up the handle of his wand as he said this, and the old Auror mentally make a note of the movement. He had always wondered where Albus had gotten this wand, as it was most assuredly not the man's original, but the story had never been shared with him specifically, and it was obvious that it was a very personal matter, so Alastor had the propriety to not intrude on his friend's business.

"So we wait, not knowing what the boy could possibly be up to, or what chaos he could be wreaking with his powers…" Alastor said sarcastically.

"Of course not, but all available course of action are safeguarded by the Ministry, and without Amelia's direct support and assistance we can do very little…" Albus started, but an owl flew in at that time, depositing a letter on the Headmaster's desk before turning a tight circle and departing the way it came.

Albus scooped up the parchment quickly, glancing over the addressee before opening it quickly. "Anything I need to know of, Albus," Alastor stated, watching the open window and the man before him.

"Nothing of immediate concern, but we may have some new members of the Order of the Phoenix from the Auror department, at least one you may know… Nymphadora Tonks…" Albus replied, glancing up momentarily from the letter.

Alastor smiled at that, "She's got a good head on her shoulders, a bit clumsy, but a fine duelist, and a metamorphmagus to boot. Very good qualities, I was pleased to have her as my last trainee before retiring. But that doesn't change the situation Albus, if I need to speak to Amelia again, pull the last bit of my clout to enact the trace on the boy's wand or something, just say the word…"

"I doubt Nobu'tan has much need of his wand these days…" Albus said, glancing at his shelves of silver instruments…

"Ah," Alastor said, looking back and forth between the old Headmaster and the wall of assorted tracking items, "You already bypassed the need for the Ministry to track the boy's wand…"

"You know me too well Alastor…" Albus said, smirking momentarily.

"So what means are you speaking of, then?" Alastor asked, and the Hogwarts Headmaster seemed to settle into his seat before speaking.

"It's more of a long-term game, if we are unable to locate him this year, but you know that the Ministry is trying to put pressure on me to allow the Triwizard Tournament to return next year…" he started.

"And you want to enter the boy's name, thinking that the Goblet of Fire will produce him over any other student… that's risky Albus, and possibly might not work, if his form of magical power is vastly different from what the Goblet measures…" Alastor interrupted.

"Yes, if we put him in under Hogwarts…" Albus replied, "But if a fourth school was entered, somehow…"

Alastor thought hard, "It would be possible, but dangerous… I mean you've seen my memories of what the boy is capable of, put him in the tournament and who knows what he might do as revenge…"

"It's worth the risk to distract him from whatever plans he has and make absolutely certain that we know where he is…" the Headmaster said with finality, "besides, I've already sent the approval form to the Ministry, and will be setting details with the other two schools participating in the coming months…"

"I still don't like it Albus, there is much that could go wrong…" Moody replied, his mind spinning with the wild conjurations that the boy could threaten the school with.

"Then feel free to make mention of these concerns to the Ministry, especially Amelia, who actually still listens to you, and increase security as high as you'd like. You yourself are already set as Defense Against the Dark Art's professor that year, so you will be on hand during the tournament…"

"I still haven't agreed to that," Alastor said bluntly.

"But you will…" Albus countered, and the Auror had to give the old man credit, he was on a roll, completely poised and precise with his flow of thought.

"What are you plans for that year then…" Alastor said, and Albus started into another long discussion detailing their preparations that they needed to make immediately for the Tournament.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was not pleased with the maddening arrangement that placed Nobu'tan so far from them, secreted away doing whatever he pleased in Durmstrang. It had been much easier to contain and guide the boy while he was in the Manor, not that he dared to think he could control the far more powerful warlock, but it was a simpler job directing him from brash courses of action and making poor decisions that were, admittedly, more efficient toward furthering the Order's collective goals.

There were times for that level of brutal simplicity, but when one was trying to outmaneuver the likes of Albus Dumbledore or Alastor Moody, tact and subtlety were more important than haste in one's goals. At least Lucius himself was being kept appraised of the entirety of the boy's doings with regard to his research into the problems with locating the third of their artifacts. They had mutually decided that keeping the two they had together was risky, so while Nobu'tan had taken the Grimoire of Merlin to study, the Diadem of Ravenclaw remained in the secret vaults under Malfoy Manor, safely behind walls of dangerous and powerful enchantments.

But still, managing the storm of letters that the boy was trying to send off to the entire Order, instructing them of all his plots and plans for each of them individually was too great a risk, and Lucius took great effort to space out when who among their secret group was informed at a time, just in case those watching the Manor got wind of how many exactly were involved in this plot, and Lucius was well aware that it was indeed the case. The eyes of their enemies were ever watchful.

But to be fair, the space from the other warlock gave Lucius some important time to be able to take some control of the Order to himself, as even though his son was higher in ranking within the Black Harvest, the other adults of the group still looked to Lucius for their true orders, and he was more than willing to take the reins as needed, especially as his son was at Hogwarts, and managing the part of the Order that were still underage.

So, in light of the clear observation that they were all under from the Ministry, and through them Dumbledore, Lucius was advising patience and a gradual taking of effect with Nobu'tan's instructions, slow scouting of the area in question, as to not tip their hand to the Order of the Phoenix, which he would not have put past the old Headmaster to have reestablished just to monitor them and take back his precious Boy-Who-Lived.

Meanwhile, Lucius himself pushed each and every member of the adult warlocks to their training, and made sure that each of them mastered a third demonic summoning, bringing in a harem of Succubi into their world, much to the delight of some of the more lewd or lonely of their members, but Lucius himself found the seductress bonded to him rather lackluster in her attempts to seduce him, which ended quickly, the temptress probably realizing that he was of a stronger caliber than most of the others, and a happily married man. Still, their combat prowess and usefulness was not to be ignored, and it was an important stepping stone in chasing after the path of power being carved out by their leader.

All these thoughts were still on his mind, then, when Lucius attended the next meeting of the Hogwarts board of Governors, only to be surprised when the Headmaster himself was in attendance. While not unwelcome, it was highly unusual for Dumbledore to distract himself from his many positions to actually sit in the meetings unless there was some vote of importance that he wished to weigh in on. Currently there was no such vote scheduled, to Lucius' knowledge, and as head of the board he ought to know out of anyone.

"Headmaster, what a pleasant surprise," Lucius said falsely, the small grin on his face dying the moment Dumbledore's steeled eyes met his. This was to be some sort of battle then, was it? So be it, if the old man wanted to engage Lucius in this arena as well, then the Pureblood lord would bring what power he had to bear here as well.

"I wish the same could be said from me, Lucius…" the aged Headmaster responded, "but I am greatly concerned at the lack of security that you've have show in your own home, and wonder if you are still fit to lead the board that monitors the school that all our children attend, when Harry Potter was kidnapped right out of your own Manor…"

"You go too far, Dumbledore," Lucius said, holding out a hand and allowing a measure of offense settle into his voice, "I was neither in my home to prevent it, nor aware of Mr. Potter's presence in the first place. I and my family were away on holiday, and while I knew the boy had access to our home, having given it to him myself, I did not think that he would exercise it while we were away. He had always shown himself to be trustworthy and very respectful, when it was given to him in return…" Lucius added, barbing his words and thrusting them back at Dumbledore with a flourish. "Surely you've found him to be the same, as his Headmaster…"

The old man didn't even flinch at the barbs, but pressed on his attack regardless, "I have, which is why I now fear for his safety, being out somewhere we do not know. Surely you have some indication or clue that was left behind that those who care about Harry could use to find him…"

Lucius wanted to laugh aloud, but that was unacceptable given the presumed thought regarding Nobu'tan's vanishing from British soil. "If I had, I would have given it to the Ministry already, Dumbledore, not to a school teacher, no matter how revered and respected he may be."

"Ah well, just an old man's hope then I presume…" Dumbledore said, batting off the insult like it was nothing, before withdrawing some parchment from a pocket of his robes, "however I do have one important piece of information regarding Hogwarts before I take my leave, the Ministry and I have come to an agreement regarding the reinstatement of the Triwizard Tournament, how it will operate now and the increases in safety regarding those involved."

Lucius was a little more than surprised at this new, along with the rest of the Board. Dumbledore had vehemently denied all allowances for the Tournament, despite it being one of the oldest school traditions, and for the old man to suddenly change his mind was unprecedented. Unfortunately, it was also a sound tactic, as the others of the board were too excited coming up with how the Tournament would be run for Lucius to confirm the Headmaster's reasons for the change of heart on the subject. And before Lucius could regain order to the board, Dumbledore had already slipped out the door like the crafty eel that he was, no one even batting an eye as he made the excuse of much work to be done as he departed.

It took another twenty minutes afterward to regain control of the flow of the meeting, and by then Lucius was barely constraining the urge to call upon his new powers to frighten these fools back into line. That Dumbledore could destabilize his power here with only a few words and not even a full explanation was enough for the Pureblood Lord to greatly distrust what the old man as up to, and desire greatly to know his motivations.

Unfortunately their one spy in the ranks of the school had been Severus, and while the Dark Lord had empirically trusted the man, Nobu'tan wanted nothing to do with Snape. Lucius could only guess that it was due to how incredibly close that the man had to be to Dumbledore, on principle, and hoped to one day including their old friend into the ranks of the Black Harvest, but time would tell for that. Until then, they were quite in the dark regarding Dumbledore, and the only positive was that the old man was equally ignorant of their plots.

Giving up on the Board for the time being, as they gravitated time and again to the Tournament throughout their discussion regarding the money that flowed through the school, Lucius decided to call the meeting to a close far sooner than he normally did, and departed the Ministry room set aside for them in the Department of Magical Education with a frustrated frown on his face.

These fools, the lot of them, were so taken in by the Headmaster that it didn't matter what the old man wanted them to believed, they would accept it as good and necessary without a second thought. If the Headmaster was so inclined to, he had all the power needed to simply take control of their government and run all of Britain himself, and the people would just let him. The very thought sickened and frightened Lucius to no end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus departed the Ministry with all the haste that was dignified to him at his age. Lucius was sure to be most displeased at him for interrupting and derailing his entire meeting, but Albus had hoped to prove to himself whether Lucius was indeed in cahoots with Nobu'tan, and the man's denial of any knowledge of the boy's location all but proclaimed it. Alas for Lucius, Albus feared for the man and his family, and even his old allies, for what they may be consigning themselves to with allying with the wild and unpredictable Nobu'tan.

But, even as he reached the apparation point and prepared to return to Hogwarts, Albus realized that that was an unfair simplification of the boy's behavior. He had been quite cunning throughout his meetings with Albus, and even if the Headmaster didn't approve of the boy's attitude or demeanor when it came to speaking plainly and divulging his secrets regarding his powers and where he had been, there had always been a degree of respect and acknowledgement that Albus was superior to him in the ways of magic. Even for the short time that they crossed spells, it was obvious that Nobu'tan was hesitant to attempt to take on Albus directly, which may have been a touch of wisdom from the young boy.

Yes, he had been extremely careful in his maneuvering to escape Hogwarts, but now that he was free, Albus was afraid at what the lack of control or limits might do with the boy so incredibly powerful. Was he even now somewhere in the muggle world, causing destruction or damage on such a small scale that the Ministry couldn't pick it up? And if so, how long before that escalated?

Albus had witnessed some of the powers that the boy possessed in person and even more through the memories of Alastor as he went to Malfoy Manor to search for him. It was frightening how calmly and yet overwhelmingly angry the boy could be, laughing much akin to Voldemort one moment before throwing orbs of fire at his enemy like an enraged Veela the next. While he doubted that the boy's sanity had ever been damaged, there was indeed something unwholesome about his psyche, and Albus hoped that, once they found and brought Nobu'tan back to the castle, that through some powerful therapy, unfortunately aided by magic, they would be able to correct the gross oversights into other people's safety that plagued the boy.

Albus never wanted things to progress this far, but Amelia's hands were tied by the laws of their country. Nobu'tan had proven himself to be a danger to those around him, and it was his age alone that spared him Azkaban, but that was also dwindling quickly. Fourteen was the youngest that one could lawfully be imprisoned in that nightmare-on-earth, and the boy was scantly a year left from that point. Albus continually thanked the small mercies that allowed them this brief window of opportunity to make sure that that was not required.

The hard part was actually going to be recapturing the boy, as he had thrown aside a group of armed Ministry workers without so much as batting an eye, aided by his diabolic minions. Alastor had several plans, but each had their own problems to work out, and situational circumstances that were nearly impossible to factor in until things were already in motion.

Albus could hope that the boy would go peacefully once their traps to bring him back began, but he severally doubted that it would go that easily. That was why he had made the decisions for Defense Professor for both this current year and the next already. Remus Lupin, while being a family friend of the Potters for years, would as a werewolf was physically strong enough to safely render Nobu'tan unable to act without too much threat of injury, while Alastor himself was a powerful caster, now only made stronger by learning the power of the Arcane.

These two would potentially be Albus' aces in the hole to be able to stop Nobu'tan from leveling the castle when he realized what they had planned to draw him out of hiding. But it would still be highly useful to actually know where the boy was, so that anything insidious that he attempted could be thwarted in the meantime.

What they needed was someone that could move about unseen and actually scout about the places that were eventually revealed by the movements of Nobu'tan's allies, but the problem was that the majority of the Order was either too well known or had jobs and lives that made full time spying impossible.

Just then, as Albus arrived outside his office in the castle, he came upon a strange sight. A large black dog was sitting there, almost waiting for him to return, its tail perfectly still but tongue lolling, as though tired after a long journey. As Albus approached, the gargoyle acknowledge him and leapt aside without a word, and the dog immediately rose and stepped onto the moving staircase before the Headmaster, taking the trip up to the wooden door without so much as a noise.

Bemused, and wondering what was going on, as he sensed no malicious intent through the Arcane, although the dog seemed extremely familiar to him, Albus allowed the dog entry to his office, closing the door behind him, "Well my small friend, what is it that I can do for you," he asked as he turned back to face the dog, but it was already gone, replaced by a very thin and shivering man that Albus recognized all too well, despite the aftereffects of living on Azkaban.

"Hello Albus…" Sirius Black said, as calmly as he could manage at the time. For his part, Albus did not react much, merely blinked in mild surprise. He, like many, thought that Sirius would come to the castle in the supposed pursuit of his godson, but for Sirius to approach Albus so openly led to many questions.

"Hello Sirius," he replied, moving around the man carefully and settling himself at his desk. There was nothing for him to fear from this man, as it was clear that Sirius had no wand, and his Animagus form was as weak and tired as his normal form. "I suppose that this isn't a social call," Albus continued, injecting a small smile at his levity.

Evidently Azkaban hadn't sapped all the humor from the old prankster, as even Sirius managed a weak smile, "No, I suppose it isn't, but I swear that I'm not here for what people think I am."

"You mean to kill Harry?" Albus said, cutting straight to the core of his questions, "I supposed that the moment you revealed yourself to me, but the question stands, why then are you here? Surely you heard that Harry was missing."

The pained look that crossed the convict's face proved that there was indeed far more going on that was presented to the Wizengamot when Sirius was placed in Azkaban without a trial. "I heard, and I want to help save him… I swear that I did not betray the Potters, although I may as well have killed them with my rash thoughts and actions… but I need your help to do what is right and best for everyone."

Albus sat still, listening as Sirius explained himself, from the very beginning of when the Potters went into hiding, to Pettigrew being chosen as the least likely to bear the Secret, and in turn betraying the Potters, blaming Sirius and fleeing the scene via his animagus form of a common rat. It would seem ridicules to any hearer, expect that Albus could see through both magic and his own eyes that Sirius was passionately telling the truth. You didn't teach someone for seven years without learning a bit about them, and Sirius had spent enough time in Albus office as a child that the Headmaster had gotten to know the scion of the House of Black quite well.

When Sirius had finished, he slowly sat in a chair nearest to Fawkes, who crooned softly and fluttered down to rest on the convict's leg. "I believe you Sirius, and to be honest your appearance is probably the most useful thing that had occurred since Harry vanished." Albus said. For Sirius' sake, he would call Nobu'tan by his official birth name, until the man was strong enough to understand the full truth of what had happened. "Firstly, we need to get the proof needed to see you acquitted from Azkaban and the Kiss. From your story, you strongly feel that Pettigrew is here, in the castle, even as we speak?"

"He's here, with the Weasley's youngest son, as his pet rat…" Sirius confirmed, looking far more relaxed with Fawkes singing softly to him, and if the phoenix found Sirius' presence tolerable enough to be close to, then it all but confirmed it for Albus that the man had been speaking the truth.

"Then I will do what I can to reveal Pettigrew, and make sure that he is sent on his way to the Ministry to answer for his crimes, and the crimes placed upon you," Albus said, "but for the time being, you need rest. I will summon a House Elf with clean robes and food, and you are welcome to sleep in the guest room, here in the Headmaster's tower."

Sirius nodded sleepily, already exhausted from too little food and too much travel. Albus had to partially assist him out of the chair and toward the guest room, causally banishing some of the grim and smell from the man, before settling him in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. There was much work to be done now, and a new ally that had to be nursed to health. Albus would have to do most of the work on his own, only entrusting Madam Pomfrey once Sirius was cleared.

As the convict slept, Albus turned his mind toward Gryffindor Tower, contemplating how best to unmask the hiding danger within the castle. Any misstep could alert Peter to his danger prematurely, and while Albus was sure there was much that he could get away with, the man probably having grown quite comfortable in his position, the news of Sirius' escape likely would have made him far more alert once more, and any changes in character would be too much a tipoff for the man. There would need to be careful planning to pull off such a thing quickly, and Albus would need a reason to be close to Ronald Weasley, so Albus set to work drafting a quick list of ideas in his mind.


	33. C32: Discovery

**Ever appreciative of the consistent reviews and positive words from my readers. Please keep it up, every scrap of encouragement feeds the raging beast that has grown cold as of late, despite my own personal best attempts, but I hope that the part at which I am writing for TSR will prove to be stimulating enough for me to write, as I know what your reaction to its contents shall be...**

 ** _AT LEAST READ THIS SECTION EVEN IF YOU SKIP AUTHOR NOTES PLEASE!_ ~ I have placed a new poll upon my profile page, take a look and offer your opinion regarding what far flung future (I love alliteration) stories you'd want to see from me when STR and RoDV are said and done with, please choose the top three, so I can get a head start in my free time to poke at them. ~ _THANK YOU FOR READING THIS SECTION AT THE LEAST, ENJOY THE CHAP!_**

 **Coming from this story, where I a significant ways ahead of where I am posting (upward toward twenty chapters I think was last count,) I submit that it is an example of the diligence that I can provide when I have ample time to build up a buffer between posting (Whenever that happens for these stories) and writing. No pressure for me, and consistent updates for you, win-win senario! And now, without further blah-blah-blah from me, your chapter for the 2 week interval! Enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Two**

 **Discovery**

Nobu'tan had taken a short trip away from the school, after learning somewhat about the surrounding mountain regions. Ever since that first Halloween in Hogwarts, he had been desirous to make contact with the ogres of this world, and see if there was any possibility of the same spark of intelligence that had caused such powerful minds as Cho'gall or the other Ogre Magi that Nobu'tan had briefly interacted with.

There apparently was a sizeable collection of what these wizards considered 'trolls' in the nearby mountains, and while Nobu'tan had been advised against this course of action, he was determined to make contact and see if there was any potential to be found. So he had taken whatever he found that would keep him warm, cast powerful wizarding charms to maintain body heat and not interfere with any of his Fel-touched spells that he may need to protect himself in the midst of convincing these ogres that he was not their prey, but a hunter worthy of their respect.

It took a few days of intense hiking through the cold mountains, and Nobu'tan immediately was glad that he had dressed in his old frostwolf hide robes, which were used to the intense cold of both Khaz Modan and the Alterac Mountains back in Azeroth, so he was more than comfortable as he searched. After the fourth day, he finally found the ogre's lair. A massive cave-like mound was set into one of the cliff sides, sheltered from the biting wind and clearly something that the creatures had just happened to find rather than actually built, there were already three or four of the massive creatures sitting around a haphazardly built fire, warming themselves to make up for what little clothing they wore.

As Nobu'tan had expected, his presence did not go unnoticed, as long before he managed to approach, the Ogres had smelled him, and two of them already seized massive bone clubs and were advancing on him as he set foot in the sheltered crag that they had claimed as their home.

Nobu'tan watched them advance on him, bellowing their angry cries and raising the weapons, seeking any sort of intelligence within their eyes before he acted, allowing green Fel fire to envelope his body, before blasting the rocks a few steps before the Ogres, frightening the pair into dropping their weapons as they fell back from the sudden explosion of dark magic.

Nobu'tan walked forward, knowing that he had made an impression to at least these few, and amid the grunts and roars of the Ogres, which was starting to seem like a type of language rather than animalistic noises to Nobu'tan, he attempted to speak in the orcish tongue.

" _Do you understand my speech, Ogre_ ," he said to one of those that had stumbled and fallen in terror of his power, but it was clear that the beast was unable to comprehend his words. Instead, the creature tried to swat away the frightful thing before it, its massive arms like windmills as it tried to strike at Nobu'tan, but its own fear was preventing it from landing a blow.

Sighing in frustration, Nobu'tan tried another tactic. Quickly drawing his wand, he listened a bit longer to the ogre as it cried out in its half roaring, half screeching tongue, and made several quick gestures with the wooden implement. The language was crude, but he should be able to understand some of the ideas it was transmitting between these creatures now.

Even as he completed his spell, it started to take effect. The roars and grunts started to have meaning, not so much as full words, but more as a rudimentary idea transmitted, which Nobu'tan attributed to the baseness of the language. The ogre before him was, much as he suspected, trying to ward him away, but too full of fear to even make a serious attempt.

Giving the new language an attempt, Nobu'tan said the equivalent of, " _Bring leader to me_ ," in halting ogre-speech, and it grated on him to use such crude vocabulary as the ogres had. He was teaching them orcish at the first opportunity. Luckily, the one line had enough of an effect to motivate the Ogre to action, and it ran in its attempt to get the ' _Angry, scary wizard_ ,' what he wanted.

Afterward there was a lot of roaring from inside the mound, and several ogres, much larger than the originals, exited, glaring down at Nobu'tan, but not approaching. These ones were somewhat intelligent, and probably had heard what Nobu'tan was capable of, so they warily kept their distance.

Finally, after several more minutes of waiting, the largest ogre yet appeared, wearing some armor made of bones and wood, and carrying a legitimate metal club in its hand. " _What you want, little human_ …" The ogre lord said in their language, and Nobu'tan was suitably impressed with their sense of smell, as with his dark cloak and the vapor of fel fire and dark magic he ought to have been difficult to identify with his hood raised.

He had to phrase his demands carefully, as he wanted to show the ogre clan the advantages of willingly allying with him instead of dominating them through fear. Ogres respected power, and he got their attention with his bold approach and display of magic, but that was only the first step. " _Me want take weak warriors, make them wizards, give them power, entire clan join with me, become strong_." He said, and to his great surprise the ogre lord was actually listening intently. It seemed the novelty of speaking their own language was something that was able to hold their attention, even if it was grating and irritating for the orc-raised human to speak.

The chief was actually thinking it over, and casually beat the metal club against his leg, making the ground shake, but Nobu'tan refused to even flinch. It may be some sort of test, to see if the much smaller creature was worth part of his clan. " _Me give you weakest warrior, see what you can do, if he become big powerful wizard, then we join you…_ " he said after a while, barking orders back at his guards, and they left to fetch one of the other ogres, which had all taken shelter within the mound.

Nobu'tan bowed slightly, " _agreed, we return in two moon cycles, and you see how powerful he become_." Two months would be all the time Nobu'tan predicted that he would need to recreate the ritual that produced the ogre magi, after the same fashion that Gul'dan did, aside from the lack of powerful elven Runestones. Nobu'tan would have to make his on his own, but as he looked at the smallest ogre, still reaching over eight feet in height and clearing weighting several hundred pounds, he figured that at least he had a servant that could manage a bit of heavy lifting.

Idly, he wondered if this was the way Gul'dan had felt regarding Cho'gall… at least initially perhaps. By the time Nobu'tan had entered the picture, the there had been some tension between the two, once the young human could understand it, and the two had become powerful chieftains in the Horde. While still allies, it was clear that they had developed their differences, which Nobu'tan supposed was acceptable, just dangerous with how mad the particular ogre mage had started to become.

A simple fix to that really, give the ogre mage less freedom, and more dependency on the master he was to serve. Nobu'tan looked up at the scrawny ogre he was to train. Not nearly as muscular or wide as his fellows, there was some certain shiftiness in the eyes of this one that Nobu'tan liked, a certain level of cunning that could easily be expanded upon. " _Name_?" he commanded, and was immediately answered by the ogre in question. " _Tegramm_."

Bowing slightly once more to the ogre chief, Nobu'tan beckoned for his new servant, and turned to leave, trudging the long way back up the slope to Durmstrang. He had six to eight weeks, and it would take time to make the trip back to the school, before even starting to prepare and finalize the ritual needed for the transformation of this ogre into a mage. The lumbering gait of the ogre was almost a comfort, reminding Nobu'tan of the long days he spent on the shores of Khaz Modan, and learning from his mentors as the Horde prepared to sail up toward Lordaeron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione was more than ready when the appointed day of the joint ritual had arrived. Despite being in third year, and thus eligible for the Hogsmeade weekend trips, she had convinced all those of her little society, along with Draco and his contingent, to forestall the first trip, and come together to see if they could succeed where the Ministry had failed, and locate Harry through the power of the Arcane.

Countless hours she had spent pouring over Arithmancy numbers, battling over the placements of each of their twelve casters, and what runes to paint under their feet in order to guide the magic. It was surprising to her how well the side studies meshed with the Arcane, forming a strong link between wizard and mage magic, and allowed such compound rituals to be attempted.

Placement was key between the members of the ritual. Each trio of people out of their twelve had to be reasonable equal in power, or their segment could become unstable and ruin the entire process. after long consultation with Draco, Hermione had decided that she would be in the lead circle with Draco and Theodore Nott, who were by and large the most powerful of the other faction, while in the next circle Blaise Zabini would stand with Ravenclaw Terry Boot and Gryffindor Fay Dunbar, which ought to balance the power out quite well, the Ravenclaw boy being somewhat more progressed than the Gryffindor, but it would work Hermione thought.

The next circle would be Susan Bones of Hufflepuff, along with Colin Creevey of Gryffindor, standing with Vicent Crabbe, and the final circle would hold Gregory Goyle along with Hannah Abbot and Anthony Goldstein.

After the configuration of people was satisfied, then Hermione went to the Room of Requirement, which had been explained to her in great detail by Harry in the past, and strove tirelessly since the previous night to paint runes that would join their magic and aim it towards finding Harry for them. Four separate runic circles for each group, one being center to the other three to direct the flow of power, all within a seeking pentagram ought to give them what they needed. by the time she had finished, it was well into the morning that they had chosen to perform the ritual, and Hermione had wisely chosen to use her time turner to go back and get a full nights rest beforehand, so that her own levels of magic were at their peak.

Luckily it was a weekend, and early enough in the term that her homework from all her classes wasn't overwhelming yet, but she was grateful that they chose such an early time, as it was clear that she would be swarmed by the time exams came around. Hermione made her way down to breakfast with the others in Gryffindor, and looked around at the others who were participating, making sure that each seemed rested and ready for the task at hand.

There would many good signs, and even some of the younger students in the mage lessons seemed extremely excited to be participating in something this grand. Even for Hermione this was to be a learning experience. Rituals weren't touched upon in any of their classes, as the Ministry had strict control over what was allowed or not, and the majority, other than some Pureblood rites of heritage and so forth, had been restricted to use only within the Department of Mysteries.

Still, Hermione knew that they were all pioneering a new achievement in the world of magic, thanks to Harry, and it probably was up to them to make sure that their unofficial leader was safe. The ritual worked best at noon, when the sun's power was at its highest, so that was when they all had decided to come together, giving Hermione ample time to finish preparations from the morning to the appointed time. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were the first to arrive, being closest in their tower common rooms.

Hannah and Susan arrived shortly after eleven, with the Slytherin group of five arriving just before the hour. "Good, we have arrived," Hermione said, the seriousness of the task settling into her voice as she spoke. "We have already decided upon who stands where in the ritual, and you needn't worry too much other than assisting in powering it with your respective magic; Draco, Theodore and myself will do most of the work directing the magic into the runes to achieve what we want."

The others nodded, consulting her sheet of parchment quickly, before going to stand with their respective partners in their assigned circles.

Turning to the two Slytherin boys who were to take the leader with her, Hermione nodded solemnly, "are you prepared?" she asked, not fully understanding why she was growing nervously formal.

"We are…" Draco replied, and together the three of them stepped into the center circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco knew that Granger had gotten the circles and calculations perfectly correct the moment she started to speak. The Muggleborn witch wouldn't understand, but magic knew when a powerful ritual was to be performed, and manifested itself in various ways to be in preparation for whatever magic a group of witches and wizards had devoted themselves as a group to, often with strange or slightly amusing quirks that affected the members of the ritual. Apparently that included the formality with which they start to use when speaking to each other.

Regarding this little ritual, as Draco knew exactly where Nobu'tan was hidden away, he had something of a conflict of interests. While he knew the reasons that the boy was away, and the importance of keeping that a secret, there was a small selfish and somewhat childish part of him that wanted his friend back. True, Nobu'tan wasn't the same kind of friend that Theodore had been before they met the warlock, but nevertheless Draco had enjoyed the time they shared, even in the most mundane of activities. The novelty of Nobu'tan first experiencing things that Draco had long taken for granted was refreshing, and it was something that he legitimately missed.

Granger lifted her arms once they were all in place within their circles, and a torrent of arcane magic billowed upward, charging the lead circle and commencing the ritual. Draco and Theodore, in the same circle as the brilliant witch, waited only a few moments before reaching up as well, calling upon the power of the Nether, and adding the strength of the Great Beyond to the circle, in effort to locate their friend wherever he had gone.

Granger may have guessed that their magic was drastically different, but clearly from her look of surprise as new power flooded into the ritual she had not grasped the measure of that difference. But she had no time to comment, as the other four circles flared to life as the nine others began their chants and invoking, and the three in the center were busy directing the flow of one full circle to their needs.

Soon the levels of magic came to a crescendo, they were close to the rending of the veil around them, and Draco had to make a choice, seek Harry in reality, and reveal his location to the others, or turn the ritual to another direction and have it supposedly fail, while giving them other information that might be more useful to those warlocks still in Hogwarts.

There was no real choice in the matter, and Draco subtly altered his flow of power, asking the question that was not where was Nobu'tan, but where the powers they wielding came from, and where the knowledge had been had.

Between the three leaders, a shimmering window appeared, which according to what Granger had wanted should have shown them the place where Harry was hidden, but instead Draco saw something completely foreign to him. Towering spires of a clear violet hue rose over a mighty walled city, like something out of a strange alternate era of the Middle Ages. Within this city, a plethora of creatures, humans being one part of the beings there, walked and talked among themselves, while creatures of pure magic existed within their midst. It was clear that these wielded the same magic as Granger and her group, the Arcane, and their symbol, which Draco committed to memory, was that of a golden eye on a violet field. For his part, the young warlock was not sure what to think of an entire city of rival mages, except that it was highly likely that this was not on their world.

With the clear knowledge that there were beings that lived outside of their planet, such as the demons that they commanded, it was not a stretch to imagine that there were other humans or near humans out in the Nether.

But the vision that came next was equally chilling, and required Draco's attention, as a group of green skinned creatures floated into view, replacing the mage city completely. The group of magi seemed to be in the proceed of some sort of ritual themselves, powering an alter that stood between them, chanting in the demonic language of the Legion. Whatever they seemed to be doing however, was lost to them as one in their midst turned, looking directly at them with crimson eyes, the massive teeth forming into a sneer, before their ritual went black with a wave of the creature's arm.

The magic they had generated rushed out of the circles in a great wind of flowing magic, escaping into the Void and leaving them all drained. "I don't understand…" Granger said, back to her usual method of speaking, "I did all the calculations extremely carefully; we should have located Harry with little problems."

Most of the other mages looked drained, but Draco noted with a bemused smile that the warlocks in the group were still on their feet, unhindered by the power that had flowed out of them to power the ritual. "Not all rituals work they way we wanted them to," he explained briefly, "that's the primary reason why the Ministry cracked down on them so much. It's unpredictable magic at the best of times, and can be downright fatal at the worst."

He looked down at her, knowing that she was actually dead on with her methods to locate Nobu'tan, "Don't worry so much about it, it could just as easily mean that Harry is protected from such scrying on his person…"

Granger looked pensive still, probably going over the calculations in her head over and over, but soon she glanced up, "Thank you Draco, you are likely right. There couldn't have been anything wrong with my ritual, so that has to be the answer."

"We'll find him, eventually." Draco reassured her, "I wouldn't be surprised if he just doesn't want to be found right now…" then he kicked himself, knowing that he let something important slip.

And the blasted girl noticed, "I thought he was kidnapped…" she said, looking at him with suspicion.

"I find it hard to imagine that Harry, as powerful as he is, would remain a prisoner of anyone for long. I suspect he's on the run from those creatures, which is why we could see them, and they blocked the spell. They must be powerful if they dismissed a twelve person ritual so easily..." Draco said quickly, hoping to deflect her attention from the slip up.

It seemed to work, as the girl immediately frowned in deep thought, "Yes, those creatures are most concerning. If I recall they match the description of the ones that attacked the Ministry and kidnapped Harry. But what are they? And what is their plan?"

Draco feigned ignorance, even as he motioned for the other warlocks to start preparing to depart. It was better for them to leave before Granger started to remember the differences in their magic and asked questions. There was still much for them to do in preparation for their studies in the Nether arts, including inundating new members from Slytherin that were starting to become interested in their power.

"I wouldn't know, Granger, but I have to say this was an enlightening experience, and we mutually thank you for the experience in ritual magic in conjunction with our powers. It is something for us to think on and try to incorporate in the future. As for the problems befalling Harry, we will find him, I trust that, and he will be safe, no doubts about that. He is simply too powerful to get killed quickly…"

Granger seemed to want to comment on that more, but Draco turned just then, and departed after the rest of the warlocks, fleeing the room and returning quickly to the dungeons and the chambers that they had set aside for their own practices. There were select places in the castle that they could practice, unlike the mages and their precious special room at the top of the castle, which clearly had wards and other safeguards to protect them from being discovered.

Not so with the rest of the school, and the Slytherin warlocks had to be careful with Dumbledore around, and especially with both Snape and the new Defense Professor, Lupin, who had the bad habit of appearing at jus the wrong times to potentially discover something amiss, like he could simply smell the dark auras that wafted off those that practiced the Fel magic.

Despite this, they're group was gaining momentum. Already several of the younger year Slytherins, and a few of the older, were starting to notice the levels of magical power, and the stark difference between the warlocks and their normal wand-based magic. Draco had noticed this as well.

Those who practiced the magic of the Nether, and to another degree those Mages who used the Arcane, were substantially stronger in all areas of their magical growth than those who did not, and the school at large was starting to notice. This was both good, and bad. Good as there would be more that wanted to join and become stronger themselves, giving each group more members and more power collectively, but bad as the professors would start to take note, and word would reach Dumbledore that there were more than one magical faction in his school.

Nevertheless, Draco would act as he felt necessary, as second in the Order of the Black Harvest, and start gathering as many new warlocks as he could, from all houses. Naturally they only started in Slytherin, but Blaise and Theodore had connections into Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff through their new third year classes, and that would be an advantage to use later on, once they had all the Slytherins that would join set and squared away.

Surprisingly enough, with their many new members, it was Crabbe and Goyle who took the initiative of leading instruction in the ways of the Nether, both large boys actually displaying a noticeable increase in intelligence, and competence in leading discussion or providing demonstration of abilities. Draco was pleased that the powers of the Nether were changing these two to be far more capable as human beings, in addition to useful minions of the Order.

It especially took more work off of his shoulders, as maintaining their secrecy alone was becoming quite difficult, with Aurors dropping by every so often to consult with Dumbledore, probably regarding Nobu'tan. The greatest of these nuisances was Moody, who turned up at least once a week, his irritating eye sweeping whatever room he entered with a paranoid gaze, immediately singling Draco out whenever he could for more questioning. It was illegal, but the man was not a public servant anymore, and also something of a legend, therefore more or less immune from prosecution for his relentless behavior.

Draco wondered for a time, after the first month of this, if it was similar in regards to what Nobu'tan put up with from Dumbledore for those two years after he returned from his other world. it seemed something akin to the madness of having an strange figure looming over you with power to torment you in ways you don't want, but Draco still thought that Dumbledore would have to be far worse than Moody.

Like now for example, as they trooped back down to the dungeons right after the ritual, sure enough there appeared Moody, along with Severus and Lupin, watching the line of Slytherins as the trooped past. It must have been his imagination, but Draco swore that he spotted Lupin actually sniffing the air around them, and Moody immediately made a beeline for Draco. "Malfoy, what are you and this lot doing…"

Draco stopped, allowing Theodore and Blaise to move on past the Auror, "I don't see how it's any of your business what we, as students, do within our own school, sir. But, as you asked _so_ politely, we were meeting with friends in the other houses for a lively magical theory discussion. We're all part of a relatively exclusive club that Hermione Granger started, still unofficial of course." he said, lying perfectly. Technically, it was a group meeting, and magical theory was discussed, but anything past that was not important for them to know.

Naturally however, Moody did not seem amused or believing of anything that Draco said. "A likely story, boy… Then explain why you and your group reek of Dark Magic…"

Draco made a show of examining himself, checking his underarms as though the stink was a real thing, "I haven't a clue what you refer to Sir, perhaps something used in this batch of uniforms?" he said, posing a weak but distracting argument.

"Bah!" the man snorted, seeing through the flimsy lie, but Draco cared not for what the man wanted to do. He turned to his Head of House, "Professor, must I endure this man's constant berating and invasive questioning any longer? If so then I require my father to be present, as I am a minor, and neither a suspect nor a witness of any crime, with the dear _retired_ Auror is investigating, and therefore immune from such questioning."

Snape seemed uncaring, as per his usual, but Draco could tell that the normal quickness to which he would defend his students was lacking as he spoke, "It would be best for you to move on to seeing the Headmaster, Moody, as he is rather busy this time of year."

The old Auror grunting angrily, shaking off the hand that Lupin had set on his shoulder before stomping away, with the other two in tow, but Lupin and Snape sent looks back at Draco, which caused the young warlock to become incredibly suspicious. Normally Snape couldn't stand the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but for them to be working together meant one thing, Dumbledore was on the move again with something.

Whatever it was, it probably didn't mean anything good in regards to Nobu'tan or their plans for this world, and escaping to the magic rich place that the black haired young man called home. Turning back to return to the dungeons, Draco hastily pulled out parchment and quill from one of the desks left standing in the chambers taken over by the Order of the Black Harvest, and wrote out a quick and encrypted message to his father, which could then be forwarded to Nobu'tan at the earliest convenience.

Till the reply returned there was only maintaining their secrecy, and training their new class of warlocks to worry about. Frequent trips into the forest were taken to ensure both of these. After learning what Nobu'tan had been teaching them with that venture, Draco had been quick to suggest its implementation wherever possible, albeit without dangerously entering the nest of Acromantula. That he was saving as a final challenge before the summer holiday, where all of them would go and see about wiping out that menace once and for all.

Handing the now sealed missive to Blaise, who was their runner for the Owlery right now, and turned his attention to the practice summoning circles that several of their younger students were tracing and memorizing. Naturally they wouldn't be using the Fel magic with Dumbledore in the castle, but it was practice for the next time they entered the forest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moody refused to let the Malfoy boy out of his mind as he entered Albus' office. There was something at work there, he could both see and sense it with the arcane senses that he had started to learn. The boy and his friends gave off similar magic readings as Potter had, albeit far weaker. It wasn't too far of a stretch to guess that they had, and were still, learning the secrets that Potter used, to summon deadly creatures and twist the power of shadows and cursed fire to their whim.

Unfortunately, Albus had already stated that he was well aware of this, but for some reason the old Headmaster seemed willing to wait around and let these Slytherins do as they pleased. "Ah, Alastor, I had just been hoping that you would arrive with Severus and Remus," Albus said, standing from his desk and crossing to shake his hand.

"What did you want Albus, and your precious Slytherins are growing in their dark magical powers…" Moody replied, shooting a darkened glance to the floor with his magical eye, but the distance was too far for him to see the brats as they retreated to their underground holes.

"That is a matter for another time." Albus brushed off the concern, "but what we have to deal with now is the securing of an important witness to aid in the freedom of an innocent man."

"Who are you referring to?" Lupin said, looking somewhat hopeful, "Surely not Black…"

Alastor knew the background of the werewolf, and his friendship with both Sirius Black and James Potter. It was tragic, but so many things were during those days that Alastor had more or less hardened himself to those feelings. Constant Vigilance demanded that he not be clouded by emotion.

"I do indeed refer to Sirius… I have met with him already, and determined that he was innocent of the violence that took Lily and James from us." Albus said, much to the surprise of the others.

"That is not possible." Snape replied snidely, "he was the secret keeper, and only he could have told the Dark Lord how to enter Godric's Hollow."

"Except that he was not the Secret Keeper, merely posing as it to cover the real keeper." Albus replied, eye twinkling in that way that meant the old man had a brilliant deduction in store.

"Then who…" Lupin started, before shaking his head, "Surely not Peter…"

"Ah, but it was indeed Peter Pettigrew that was the Potter's Secret Keeper, if we are to believe Sirius, and I for one to trust him, however, he gave us means to verify his claim…" Albus said cheerfully, "Which is why I need you three to assist me."

"What are you planning Albus?" Alastor said, growing tired of the back and forth banter that the older man was enjoying as he revealed his scheme bit by bit.

"We just need to take a short trip to Gryffindor Tower, and inspect a rat for some peculiar markings…" Albus said, which seemed to once again trigger Lupin's memory.

"Albus… you mean to say that Peter is also alive?" Lupin said hesitantly, clearly afraid to consider the possibility.

"Let us go and discover the truth. I for one am already convinced however, and wish to remove a threat from my school. Remus I will need you to detain young Mr. Weasley while we inspect his pet, as it is possible that such a revelation would be quite traumatizing for a young man to learn of. Moody, you and Severus will conduct the investigation, while I prevent Peter from escaping if it turns out to be the truth."

Alastor sighed, but allowed himself to be led after the Headmaster out of his office, humoring the old man with this venture. While he felt it a waste of time, he knew that the Headmaster took threats to his school very seriously, and even if there was the slightest chance that Pettigrew was alive and a traitor, he would not rest till such was exposed.

The trek to Gryffindor Tower was short, and they only had to pause momentarily as the Headmaster chatted with the portrait guardian to make certain that the youngest Weasley boy was still down in the rest of the castle, and was pleasantly informed that the young man was still departed from the common room, to which the old man nodded, and requested access for the four of them to the tower. As Headmaster, there was no area that was denied him, and the Lady swung her portrait forward.

The common room was more or less empty, with only a handful of students studying in the chairs around the fire, who looked confusedly at their professors and Headmaster as they entered. Lupin went to casually chat with them, distracting them as Albus led Alastor and Snape up to the third year boy's dormitory. Outside the room, the Headmaster stopped and nodded to the pair of them, drawing his wand just in case.

Alastor sighed, before pushing his was inside, followed closely by Snape. One quick sweep of the room with his enchanted eye revealed the presence of a rat, and Alastor approached the rodent swiftly, which seemed to only mildly disturb the creature. Exchanging a silent glance with Snape, the ex-Auror snapped a quick stunner at the rat, which could little more than squeak before it was struck, going limp instantly.

"That was not the reaction of any rat…" Snape commented, picking up the creature by the tail, "I am starting to think that, much as I hate to admit it, the Headmaster is proving to be most correct."

Secreting the rat within an conjured and enchanted cage, Alastor return to the corridor and presented it to Albus, "best to do this thing in private, where none of your students would be able to hear," he muttered, magical eye glancing downward at the handful of Gryffindors being distracted by Lupin.

The Headmaster nodded, taking hold of the small cage and leading them back out and returning to his office, collecting Lupin as they passed through the common room. Only once they were safely behind the closed door of the Head's office, did Albus retrieve the rat from within the cage, and after setting the creature on the ground, cast the spell that would force an animagus into human form.

As the watery-eyed man appeared before them, both Snape and Lupin stood aghast as the proof of Black's innocence appeared before them.

"R…r…Remus?" the man said, almost starting to shake uncontrollably as Moody gazed at him with both eyes.

"Hello Peter…" Albus said, making the man whirl, "Such a long time since we'd seen you last… perhaps it's time we all had a little chat…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione didn't know what had gone wrong with her ritual. She had carefully triple checked everything. There couldn't be any other possibility for its failure except what Draco had mentioned, them being blocked from the other side. That alone also posed some great challenges for the future, as it meant to Hermione that these creatures were powerful in the arts of the Arcane, and perhaps whatever other magic that Draco and his faction had learned that was suitably different from what Hermione was teaching her followers.

Therein lay another great question, what exactly had been that magic that the other Slytherins had been utilizing in conjunction with the might of the arcane? Whatever it had been, she could tell that it was not of the same world that the mages drew their energy. It seemed to be pulled down from some faraway place out in space, and more wild and chaotic in nature.

She was impressed, but rather disconcerted, as she had also sensed the inherent darkness of the magic, and somehow she wondered if they had sabotaged her ritual through the darker magic and its working. Either that or malicious intent could have played a part, but she didn't know why they would want to prevent the return of their mutual teacher.

Still, Hermione continued on as she had the previous year, teaching those that showed promise and interest in the Arcane arts. Some of the younger years had joined them, after a few subtle invitations to those who seemed capable and willing to keep secrets.

Granted, Hermione was ironically quickly running short on time to do much for herself, even in the avenues of her own Arcane learning, despite now owning a time turner. There were only so many hours that one could feasibly go back in time before the risk of overlapping timelines became too great. And due to the massive number of classes that she had elected to take, even with the additional five to seven hours a day, there just was so much work that it was extremely hard to stay ahead of everything.

Hermione was unwilling to admit it, but she was slaking in her personal practice, and thus had slid in making any new steps in the arts of the Arcane, so focused was she on making sure her grades were passing.

It was probably past time that she delegated some of the work of understanding the Arcane to another, and perhaps she ought to consult with Professor Dumbledore again, as the man seemed far more than knowledgeable regarding mysteries of magic, if she ever found the time…

Casually, Hermione started to wish for something to drink, and while fiddling with her arcane power, was surprised when she managed to create, not just a water goblet, but what seemed to be some sort of water within it as well, although the liquid was overflowing with raw magical energy.

Curious, she tasted it, and widened her eyes in shock at how refreshing and energizing the mana-rich nectar was, as it refreshed not only her body, but her mind as well. perhaps there would be ways to make sure that she had the ability to keep up with everything after all, she thought with a smile, even as Hermione returned to the essays she had laid out before her in the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus learned quite a bit from Peter, regarding the events of the fated Halloween night that saw the deaths of Lily and James, without even needing to use Veritaserum, even if it was clear that Severus was looking for any opportunity to shove a vial-full down the man's throat.

However, even the pale Potions Master was nothing against the baleful gaze of Remus, as the werewolf glared holes into his old friend turned traitor, which served to loosen the man's tongue far more effectively. They also learned that it was Peter that faked his own death, destroying a muggle gas line and causing the explosion on the street after public blaming Sirius for the deaths of the Potters, which sealed the evidence of the other man's innocence.

Turning to Alastor, Albus gestured at Peter, "Are you satisfied that Sirius is innocent of all the crimes he was imprisoned for?"

The man grunted, but said nothing. Remus and Severus were equally silent, but Peter continued to blabber on about his own innocence in the matter, how he was coerced by Voldemort and whatever else he thought would bestow pity or mercy upon himself. "Alastor, you may take Peter to the Ministry, and allow Madam Bones to deal with him as she sees fit, I have a memory to extract and a letter to write to Cornelius that he now cannot ignore. Hopefully this means these blasted dementors will be sent away at last…" Albus said, dismissing the grisly Auror and their returned traitor.

"Now that that is cleared away, sending Sirius to seek out where Nobu'tan is hiding was indeed the best choice…" Albus said, more to himself then the others once Alastor had departed with the now stunned Peter in tow.

"You sent Black after Potter before verifying if he was telling the truth?" Severus asked flatly, the muted horror of what clearly seemed like a foolish action dripping from his voice.

"My thoughts were that, he would leave if he learned that Harry was not here, and whether he was innocent or not it would probably be equally difficult for him to locate Nobu'tan than it would be for us. Now that we know, I do not need the tracking charm that I placed on him when he met with me, but it will still be useful to give him directions if anything comes up in the meantime." Albus explained.

"We are still in agreement that Draco Malfoy, and probably a fair number of the other Slytherin third years know something," Remus said, "there is a certain quality of dark magic that I can smell on them that is quite different from the usual…"

Albus held back from sighing. He already knew about the little group of Draco Malfoy's, but he also knew that they would hardly act without Nobu'tan's permission. Calmly he instructed the pair to monitor the Slytherins, but not to move against them unless it was warranted for safety.


	34. C33: Refinement

**A great many thanks to everyone that participated in the poll, which I will leave up for another 2 weeks to snatch any stranglers that have not yet added their opinion. I truly wasn't expecting such a great response as I received, and the top pick was not a story I had though would be so popular, let alone first, although I have to say the rest went more or less as I predicted. luckily 2 of the 3 are ones that I have partially prepared a beginning, so that will make life somewhat easier as I proceed along, if such holds as it currently stands.**

 **PS, moving out to college this week, so I am posting both AoM and TSR at the same time, so that I do not forget to do so on Thursday when I'm traveling. I do not anticipate any other sort of jarring effect to my schedule otherwise, barring internet problems in my new place.**

 **So, without further distraction from myself, on with the next chapter! Enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Three**

 **Refinement**

Sirius hadn't the foggiest clue where to start looking for Harry, once Dumbledore allowed him to leave the Hogwart's grounds some days after he revealed himself to the Headmaster, but the older man had given him all the information that he himself had, although it wasn't much to go on. Apparently Harry had been hiding out at the Malfoy's large manor house when he was taken by some strange creatures, so that was where Sirius went first. Luckily, all Pureblood families had knowledge of the relative location of the homes of each other, especially the Blacks, who were related to most if not all of them in one way or another, to it only took a week or two to travel down to Wiltshire, and the private estate of Lucius Malfoy.

Staking out the expansive grounds in his animagus form, Sirius started to literally sniff about for any scent of Harry. having played with James' son often enough when he was a baby, Sirius had that scent memorized, and knew what he ought to be looking for.

But what he ended up finding increased his worry all the more. Harry's scent was still present, along with residue of the boy's magic, but it was foul and twisted with dark corruption. It was similar in feel to Voldemort old power, when Sirius used to sniff out the Death Eater's hiding places during the first war, but at the same time the context of the magic was completely different, unlike anything that Sirius had experienced.

It was more raw and chaotic, if he were to describe it to himself, but there was a clear trail to follow, but unfortunately, it seemed that as with most long distant travel magic, it was spread out over the entire distance of that travel, meaning that Harry could easily be hundreds of miles away. With no wand, and little means to acquire food or shelter for himself, Sirius was not sure if he could easily track Harry by that method.

That was when his keen canine senses heard the approach of heavy boots on gravel, and he dove into some bushed to escape being seen. Watching the pathway, Sirius had to stifle a growl as Lucius Malfoy himself appeared, walking with some of his other Death Eater friends, talking softly among themselves.

A human's audio range would not have heard them, but thanks for the power of his grim-like form; Sirius could overhear them just fine.

"It's been over a month since he left us, what could be so important that Lord Nobu'tan stays away from Britain?" One of them, Yaxley if Sirius remembered correctly, asked.

"He stays because of Dumbledore, and Durmstrang is a far better place for him to recruit more potential than at Hogwarts, with the Headmaster looming over him every waking moment." Lucius replied coldly, "I had thought that would be obvious. Don't you all have practice and other work to be doing, rather than shadowing me and what important matters that I have to accomplish?" he said suddenly, and the others departed in several directions, but Sirius stayed in the bushes, waiting for the Malfoy Lord to move on.

But rather than that, Malfoy seemed to stand frozen in place for a long time, either thinking or something else; the bush covered the upper part of Malfoy's body from Sirius' view, so he could not tell exactly what the man was doing.

That was, until he smelled the small flare of dark magic that came from the direction of Malfoy.

A mass of shadows formed somewhere near to Lucius, and for the briefest of moments, Sirius thought that the man had conjured a dementor. "Grak'dok…" the Pureblood said, and Sirius shuddered as the raspy voice of the blue creature replied.

"You've called… and I have answered…"

"Come, we've much to discuss while I prepare an item for the master, I desire to learn more of what the Legion will expect of us once the portal is opened." Lucius said, and mercifully he and the strange creature started to depart, leaving Sirius to sneak out of the bushes and depart from the Manor's grounds. Whatever madness that was with Malfoy's dark magic, Sirius simply filed it away for later, far more important was the slight reference to Durmstrang Institute of Magic, which he had a marginal idea where to find.

At least it was some sort of lead to bring back to Professor Dumbledore. But even as he made his way stealthily out of the manor, Sirius couldn't help but take note of the other ex-Death Eaters were doing. If he was to take a guess at the chaotic magic that they were using, Sirius would have to say that they were preparing for a war.

Handfuls of strange creatures seemed to be teeming from various magical gateways that the former servants of Voldemort were powering, while others worked armor and weapons, clearly crafting powerful enchantments into the metal and cloth, far more items than the number Sirius counted could possible use or wear.

Dire tidings if ever Sirius could contemplate them, and as quickly and quietly as he could, he made for the exit, keeping low to avoid the eyes of the many bizarre creatures that seemed to be almost able to sense that something was amiss as he passed by them. Luckily, even though he had to have been seen at least once or twice as he escaped, nothing challenged or attempted to harm him, the animal form giving Sirius a less than threatening appearance. Emaciation combined with an almost wild appearance probably saved him there.

Starting the long trek back to Hogwarts, Sirius wondered if Albus had even looked for Peter in Gryffindor Tower yet, as he had postponed any such thing until Sirius was farther away, stating that the rat would probably be on guard if Sirius was sighted anywhere near the school. So Sirius had allowed himself to be seen only a handful of times further south, and not going in the direction of Hogwarts, in the hopes that that would aid the Headmaster in whatever scheme that he had prepared for the traitor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was starting to grow bored this term. Normally this was still the case, but that was in regard to the dunderheaded students that he had to teach, while this time it was for a far different reason. The constant feel of something being needed to be done hadn't gone away, and classes took priority over his personal experiments and even his practice with the powers of the Arcane that Albus was so insistent that he learn.

It had come as no surprise to Severus that he was exceptionally gifted with the concepts of frost magic, able to conjure blasts of frigid water and hurl icicles with great force from his fingers. And while he was rather content with the abilities that he had gained from this new category of magic, even the water elemental that he could summon and dismiss on a whim, he found himself wondering what limits he could possibly reach, if there were even any to be had.

Granger's group of mages, as they coined themselves, were far behind in comparison to what Albus had been pushing both Severus himself and now Moody through, wanting to make sure that their side had something that could counteract and fight against Potter and his dark magic. Granger herself naturally would probably be able to keep up with Albus' sessions, but the rest would be hopelessly lost in the attempts to break through barrier after barrier of Arcane secrets.

Speaking of Granger, Severus blinked as he reasoned that he bell had already sounded for dinner, and his last class, which contained the girl, had left, aside from the other Mage, who had approached him.

"Professor Snape." She started gently, "I was wondering if it would be possible to know when I could meet with Professor Dumbledore regarding some things of a certain magic we both know of."

Normally, Severus would have been offended that anyone would assume that he knew the Headmaster's schedule, but at her mentioning the Arcane, Severus had no choice but to comply. Dumbledore had all but predicted that eventually the girl would come back to them, for instruction as well as with information.

It was rather annoying that the old man was proven right yet again. "I was on my way to meet with the Headmaster now," he lied, knowing that Albus would want to meet with Granger immediately, "I shall escort you and allow you to meet with the Headmaster."

"Oh, if you have important business, I wouldn't want to…" the girl started, but Severus glared darkly at her.

"We shall go now," he insisted, gesturing at the door even as he wave his wand, banishing all the cauldrons to start cleaning themselves in the deep stone sinks at the back of the classroom. Elves took care of most of the cleaning, but it could be dangerous for some of the unfinished potion remnants to be affected by the little creatures, so Severus had routinely set for the cauldrons to be cleaned by his students in detention, or by magic if they were lucky enough to not draw his ire.

The walk up to the head office was quiet and awkward, but Severus wouldn't have had it any other way. At least in this way Granger was silent, instead of desperately trying to prove her intelligence by asking and answering every possible question conceived by wizard-kind.

Naturally, in his almost frighteningly impossible way, Albus knew they were coming, and seemed extremely pleased at Miss Granger's appearance. "Headmaster," the girl started when they were settled, all having refused the irritating muggle sweets that the old man kept trying to promote in the wizarding world, "I am some rather concerning news, as well as a request."

"Then I suppose you're going to tell me that you suspect young Mr. Malfoy and his Slytherin friends of practicing some sort of dangerous magic, taught to them by Mr. Potter, as it differs so much from the powers of the Arcane that we three, plus others, wield?" Albus correctly guessed, judging from the girl's reaction. Sometime Severus suspected that people greatly underestimated the accuracy of all the rumors of how brilliant the Headmaster truly was.

"I…well…yes, that was in part what I wanted to mention, but as it is clear you already know, then I'll move along with what…" Granger started to continue, but Albus held up a hand.

"No please, I just desired to clarify what you were to begin discussing before the start, elaborate on your concerns regarding their magic, what gave you the idea that it might be dark in nature?" Albus said, redirecting her attention back to the topic that they wanted without her being any the wiser of what they wished to understand concerning the nature of Nobu'tan's magic.

"Well, aside from being connected to some sort of otherworldly source, rather than ley lines like the arcane, its rather hard to locate and study through magic, almost as though someone was trying to protect it from detection within the castle. But it's more the aura of those boys that gives away the possible nature of the magic. They don't seem changed by it, but they are suitably darker in magic, and growing ever more secretive." The girl explained.

"Yes," Albus mused, "we'd been having the same sort of reaction with Harry, before recent events."

"Yes, Harry, I wished to speak regarding him as well, but I'm afraid I don't have much to contribute." And the girl went on to explain the ritual magic that she herself had designed, only for the scrying to be rebuffed by the same creatures that Severus had heard of at both the Department of Mysteries and Malfoy Manor. Severus felt that it couldn't be coincidence any longer that these creatures, which had never been seen nor heard of in wizarding history, would suddenly make an appearance at the same time that Potter vanished. There had to be some connection, and he highly doubted that it had anything to do with those creatures coming out of darkness to kidnap the powerful young boy.

Granger also made a request for more instruction in the Arcane arts, recognizing that Albus, even after beginning the process of learning this magic after her, had advanced to a state far beyond her own powers.

"We'll have to think on that for a short time, at least not till after the term ends, as there is still so much to do and learn, but perhaps the term after…" Albus said noncommittally, but the girl was pacified by it regardless. She denied that there was anything else for her to discuss with the Headmaster, and after thanking them both for their time, excused herself to go down to dinner.

"Such a delightfully insightful girl," Albus said, filling the silent moment after Granger departed, "but somewhat naive with some things."

"This ritual showed some promise, and I do not believe it a coincidence that it simply failed or was rebuffed so easily." Severus said, and Albus nodded in agreement.

"There is much evidence that Miss Granger, who has always held close to the rules, wouldn't violate the anti-ritual laws without a clear reason, and even more so jeopardize the safety of her friends and herself in the process. I doubt that her ritual had any flaws in the Arithmancy or the runic layout, a high achievement for a third year."

Severus said nothing, continuing to think for a moment, before a thought struck him, "You don't suppose that it was sabotaged by one of those standing within it?" he asked, and Albus smiled with his eyes twinkling madly.

"I do indeed, and am pleased that you noticed the signs yourself, Severus. I'd wager that Mr. Malfoy or one of his associates disrupted the ritual with their dark magic, warping the spell to show either real or false visions of other things rather than actually locate Nobu'tan, which would meant that they are still in workings with him, somehow, and possible even know where he is already."

"At the least, they know that his location has to remain secret from us, and the Miss Granger would stop at nothing to locate the boy herself, which would be why they made sure to recruit themselves to this joining of magic." Severus continued, speculating somewhat to himself.

"The question," Albus said, "is whether to give Sirius time to locate Nobu'tan himself, or gather what allies we can and attempt this ritual again, without interruption from those loyal to the boy's dark magic interfering."

"And what of Granger?" Severus asked, curious, "are you going to train her further in the arts of the Arcane, perhaps even bring her into the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Train her, most likely, have her join the Order, not until she is of age, like anyone else." Albus said, seemingly stung that Severus would even suggest that, "Magically powerful or not, it is important that every child has some time to act their age, and just off the responsibilities of adulthood for a time. Hermione Granger will have plenty of time to worry and scheme, but we will allow her the time needed to do as she pleases on her own for now."

"Understood, so I'll leave that aspect of the process to you then, as no doubt you could tell that as a Mage, Miss Granger rivaled even my current connection and power," Severus said.

"Well, if you devoted a little more time to your practice, that would not be the case," Albus chided, but allowed the subject to drop immediately afterward.

Severus grunted, not willing to admit that the old man was even remotely right as he turned to leave. "Seeing as that is taken care of, what did you summon me for?" he asked, hoping to change the subject and return to his work as soon as possible. Severus had been tirelessly trying to replicate the strange alternate potion-making that Potter had displayed, with very limited results.

"Primarily to tell you that despite the Ministry refusing to look into Sirius' innocence in the matter of Lily and James, they have Peter in custody, but I feel that Cornelius is trying to cover up the matter altogether. Regardless, we are working with Sirius in locating and stopping whatever Nobu'tan is up to, so you may run into him eventually. I thought you'd like to be forewarned." Albus said.

"Thank you, I will be prepared accordingly…" Severus said testily. It was mercy that he had not as of yet encountered Black in person, despite knowing that the man had been in the castle earlier in the last couple of months. Severus refused to forgive the attempt to get himself killed through Black's taunting about Lupin. The sallow man was having a hard time with just the werewolf in the castle, despite knowing in his heart that the man was not at fault so long ago.

He departed, locating an empty room that house plenty of desks and fixtures that no one would miss, and allowed the Arcane to well up inside him. Cold vengeful fury frosted over him, and the mild chill of his ice magic ran down his arms.

A blast of chilling wind send shards of ice flying before him, before Severus let loose, flinging icicles and rays of wintery chill in all directions, and soon the temperature in the room had dropped significantly. Ice shards formed on the very tips of Severus' fingers, and as he swung his arm in a tight curve, they flew into the wood of a desk, expanding until the ice was a long as his forearm, and wickedly sharp. Soon enough ice covered most of the objects in the room; creeping up from the floor as well as being embedded into it from the projectiles Severus was unleashing.

Then, in one catastrophic moment, Severus wrenched his arms up, and all the ice shattered into millions of tiny sharp pieces, cutting an equal number of gouges and cuts into every exposed surface in the room, barring Severus himself. The ice disappeared instantly, melting away to nothing, and Severus was left in the chilled and thoroughly trashed room.

A wave of his wand repaired the damage, and he left, allowing the cold fog of his breath follow in his wake as he returned to marginally higher temperatures of the rest of the castle. Let the students think he was a vampire or something, with the air in his lungs momentarily colder than the air around them, perhaps it would finally make them think twice before messing around in his class.

Severus expected such sessions of practice with his new magical abilities would become regular once Black returned to active duty in the Order of the Phoenix, but all in all that may not be a bad thing. At the least it would quiet Dumbledore from mentioning that Severus needed to practice more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan relished the looks of fear and horror on the faces of the other Durmstrang students as he led his new servant, Tegramm the ogre, around the small castle to a clearing that he had prepared previously. Using the enchantments that he knew, he had made it so that the creature could understand and speak English, and would in time learn the differences between it and the ogre language, which was making the human warlock's voice raw to continuously speak.

"Here is where the spell shall be performed, to give you the ability to use magic," he explained slowly to the ogre. Although quick minded for his race, Tegramm was still blundering and stupid when compared to orcs or humans. But he was sharp enough to understand when Nobu'tan spoke slowly and used smaller words.

"We need six tall stones, on each of the marked areas," he explained, gesturing at a spot that he had scorched away all grass and snow, leaving the bare dirt exposed, "and a smaller one here in the center. Fetch them for me, while I work out some of the other aspects."

The ogre nodded, lumbering off in the direction of water. "And don't attack anyone on the way!" Nobu'tan called after him, just to make sure. At least the ogre had left his club with Nobu'tan, which meant that at the least none would have their brains bashed in… yet…

While his servant was away, Nobu'tan referred to the journal, where he had carefully inscribed all that he could remember regarding the ritual of the ogre magi transformation, which was quite a lot mercifully, but he was pulled from his thoughts as someone approached. Without even looking, Nobu'tan could tell it was the irritating Headmaster of Durmstrang, Igor Karkaroff. The man's weak gait was distinctive.

"May I be of assistance, Headmaster?" Nobu'tan said snidely, not turning back, but watching the direction his new servant lumbered off to, waiting for his return with the first of many stones.

"Why have you led a mountain troll back to the school?" Karkaroff asked, more demanding them curious, which was a great disappointment to the warlock. If the man applied his intelligence, such a question would have been unnecessary.

"Clearly, I wish to use it to distract the school while I destroy it from without…" Nobu'tan replied sarcastically, before sobering quickly, "You idiot, clearly I'm using it for all the raw strength that it possesses, among other things that you do not need to concern yourself with… yet, perhaps. In time you may have a new student out of him for your school…"

"I might… what? Teach a troll, never!" Karkaroff retorted, even as the hulking mass of flesh apparated back over the rise, and Nobu'tan smiled as the brute approached, a five foot tall boulder in its arms. As the ogre set the stone into place, at the head of the five points that Nobu'tan had indicated, the warlock walked around it, making sure it matched his specifications.

"Excellent Tegramm, four more like this one will do perfectly." He said, and the ogre smiled dumbly at the praise, before lumbering off to do as commanded.

Nobu'tan ignored the still fuming Karkaroff as he set to work on the first stone. As the chief stone that would used, simply because Nobu'tan would have to power the entire circle on his own, the runes here needed to be precise and flow around the stone to direct the magic from one source, namely himself, to the other four stones simultaneously.

Naturally, orcish runes were the preferred choice of Nobu'tan, as he could express his needs and work the Fel magic easiest through them. As soon as it was clear that he was being ignored, the irate Headmaster started to advance on Nobu'tan, but stopped when he saw the intricate work that was being poured into the stone, "Just what are you up to?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"If you would be quiet and let me finish, you might get to witness it today instead of a week from now. I only have a full moon to power the ritual tonight, and need to get all five stones worked and powered before that time." Nobu'tan retorted, continuing to work. Thankfully, the runic systems he needed were rather basic, as the raw magic flowing through the stones would serve to substitute for the others. Tegramm brought the next stone just them, placing it just to the right of the main stone along the circle.

Nobu'tan waved his wizards wand, and precise cutting hexes started to etch the runs into the receiver stone, which would cause the stone to hold energy within itself as much as the quality of stone could manage, which was all that was needed. Once the five stones were filled, Nobu'tan would draw the excess power from them directly to start the ritual.

It took hours, which in the fading light was time that was needed to be rush as much as possible, but not to the effect of compromising the necessary runes. When the first stone was finished, and the others place, Nobu'tan directed Fel energy into the stone, even as he physically started to work the last two stones. The sun had just started to touch the horizon at last when he stood, finished with the manual part of preparation.

Karkaroff had conjured himself a seat, and had a small table of refreshment ready for them, and Nobu'tan was grateful for the small kindness. Apparently he had managed to impressed the old fool with his knowledge, or the man was simply curious as to what he intended and couldn't leave until he knew for certain what was going to happen.

Even as he rehydrated himself, Nobu'tan was already opening the portals of his magic, allowing vast quantities of Arcane and Nether power to flow into the main stone as quickly as possible. By his calculation, they would be powered and ready just in time for the full moon to be at its highest point, which was when he had to start.

Being honest with himself, Nobu'tan was irritated that he needed such a limiting outside source to assist him. Gul'dan hadn't needed such things when making his magi, but granted the rune stones of the Quel'dori had stood for ages, gathering far more magic that Nobu'tan little alter ever would hope to acquire.

At long last, with the moon high overhead, the runestones flared to life with a green glow as they were fully charged. "Now is the time, Tegramm stand in the center of the circle."

The ogre hurried to obey, placing itself directly on the flat center stone that Nobu'tan had indicated. Once in position, the warlock wasted no time in channeling the energies of the new Altar of Storms that he had built, allowing the magic to flow into the ogre, forcefully changing the being from the inside out.

The moon served to finalize the changes, as well as divert off excess energy that could have killed the new creation by accident. The ritual itself only lasted several long minutes, and Nobu'tan could tell that Karkaroff had fallen out of his seat at the end, when the now taller, and two headed, ogre stood up tall, and looked around with its bright new intelligence.

"Tegramm," Nobu'tan called, and both heads turned to look at him.

"Yes Master?" one head responded, while the other asked, "What do you desire?"

Nobu'tan smiled widely, even as Karkaroff chocked out a gasp of surprise at the now two headed ogre mage speaking perfect English.

"Congratulations are in order…" Nobu'tan said, even as the ogre mage looked puzzled, "You've taken the first great step toward becoming the powerful leader of your clan, and many more."

"We do feel the magic flowing through our body," the second head said, even as the first nodded in agreement. "When shall we start refining the techniques of this power?"

Nobu'tan was surprised. Apparently Tegramm had been far more intelligent that the other ogres had guessed, as even the ones created by Gul'dan hadn't been this self aware of their own magic or powers. "Soon, but I've used much of my power to grant you this gift, and need to rest before I can begin your training."

"As you wish." One head responded, while the other asked a follow-up question, "Might we go and explore the area around this school while practicing some of our new powers on our own in the meantime?"

"Yes, just keep yourself away from the other humans for now, they would not understand what to make of you and may try to attack you. Unnecessary bloodshed is not desired at this time," Nobu'tan instructed, even feeling the weight of his body as the ogre nodded and wandered off, meandering through the various stones and sparse trees that littered the small grounds.

Nobu'tan would've just retired to his room then and there, but alas he had the gawking Headmaster to deal with now. Turning to look at the man, Nobu'tan waited for him to actually muster the ability to speak again, as even his mouth had been hanging open as Nobu'tan conversed with the blue, rune covered creation.

"…T…that was a mountain troll…. What have you done to it?" he asked, still seeming extremely faint, and the warlock suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the man's weakness.

"Improved it…" he responded, not even willing to give the man any details. "Tegramm is a mage now, and will be taught by me, as you clearly wanted nothing to do with him before, so I will teach him the magic that I used to create him… your loss I suppose…"

And with that he walked away, leaving the Headmaster next to the now depleted circle of Runestones. There would be time enough to recharge and use it again, once the ogre clan was fully convinced to ally with Nobu'tan and become part of his arsenal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tegramm walked through the cold, snow-covered grounds of the human mage school, deep in thought between his two heads, contemplating his new place in life. With his newly expanded intelligence, and awareness of that fact, came a multitude of new questions. He was aware that the master couldn't answer them all right now, as even Tegramm could tell that the small human was exhausted from the ritual that empowered the new mage.

That left him with one massive, talking problem to answer… "What am I to be called?" said the newly created head, a side-effect of the ritual if the original head of Tegramm could guess.

Thinking hard for a moment, the original head decided it would be simplest to share his name between both heads. "We shall be Teg'Ramm, I alone shall be Teg and you alone shall be Ramm."

The other head nodded, seemingly pleased at the acknowledgement of its independent existence. It was odd, having two minds that were separate, yet connected, somewhat. There was a mental link that allowed both Teg and Ramm to communicate base ideas, but nothing overly complex, and they shared memories and experiences as well.

And then there was the unbridled power that now surged through his body, craving chaos and destruction. It was hard to keep the energies completely under control, but the new mage was learning fast. Fire flared in a massive open hand easily, but the flames were unlike anything the creature had ever seen before, tinted with the green of some otherworldly force.

Even still, it pleased Teg'Ramm to be able to express himself in such a fashion. He had always stood out among his clan, creatures known for brute strength and fury, as something calculating and for their kind, an intellectual. Now however, he would be heralded as a genius, and one that used magic. He could be many things within the clan, even chief, or greater. And it was all thanks for the master, whom he would forever owe this debt to.

Returning to the circle of stones that had granted him this power, Teg'Ramm waited for the sun to return, warming his thick hide somewhat and making the world bright again. There was a newness to everything that pleased the mage, and it was with a pair of smiles that he greeted the small human that had gifted him when he reappeared.

"Are you well, Tegramm?" the boy asked.

"We are…" one head answered, while the other followed up with a small correction, "and we are called Teg'Ramm now, the name shall be shared between us."

The boy paused, actually looking interested, "I had wondered how that was going to work out, and now some things make sense from your kind that I met in the past."

"There are more like us?" the primary head, old Tegramm's, asked.

"Far from here, on another world, the same where I learned the magic that created you." The boy answered, "The people of this world call you troll, but I disagree. To me, you are ogres, and you are the first of the ogre magi, the most power of their race. Three weeks we have to train you in using your new powers, and then we shall return to take control of your clan, and find others who are capable to become magi, and from there plans can be set into motion."

"What plans?" Teg'Ramm asked, and the small being waved his hand dismissively, "There'll be more than enough time to discuss that later, for now I can sense that you have built up plenty of magic within yourself, until you find the right way to channel it there will be no progress made."

The ogre mage nodded both heads, before sitting on the ground before his master, ready and willing to absorb every scrap of knowledge that the young human would impart. The Fel secrets and the powers of the Nether distilling immensely upon the twin minds, already brimming with so much power, simply yearned to get started.

Within minutes, Teg'Ramm was channeling the demonic energies, conjuring blasts of shadow magic to strike his would-be foes of nearby rocks and trees, while still listening to instructions of the first summoning of a demonic companion. Even while perfecting his aim with one arm, Ramm focused outward, calling into the Void for a creature to aid him.

Within moments, with the sputtering of Felfire, an imp hurtled out of the summoning circle, skipping madly as it became the ogre mage's new target for practice, cackling madly with the novelty of the ambush.

Turning back to his master when he was ready, the ogre mage swelled with pride at the smirk on the human's face. "Now I understand my old master's great pleasure to work with those of your kind. You are a natural at channeling the Fel magic, and will become a great focus of devastation and chaos. Come, now that we've practiced for a time, let us rest, and discuss more of what is to come."

"Yes, Master." Teg'Ramm said, allowing the imp to trail behind them as he followed the human toward the front of the building, pausing only a moment before entering.

There were no others in the entrance hall to see, but the ogre mage could sense that there was a great many humans here, and he momentarily wondered if they would take offence to his presence.

The young human led the way through the slightly cramped corridors, finally opening a door large enough for Teg'Ramm to fit through, and settled himself in a room filled with tables and chairs. None were big enough for the ogre mage, so he made his seat on the stone floor, in front of a fire that crackled merrily, despite the green tint of the fire.

"So then, you probably have many questions, and I will answer them, once I explain all that I have set in motion, and my eventual goals, which all tie into the reason that I sought you out to train you in the arts of Fel magic." The boy started, and the ogre nodded in response.

The tale that the boy spun was fascinating, especially when he spoke of the far away land called Azeroth, with its varied creatures, not the least of all being fellow ogres, and even magi. Many of the arts of magic, and all of the names of things were naturally beyond his knowledge, but the two-headed ogre made sure to put all of them to memory, as it was becoming clear through the boy, Nobu'tan's, description of the place that he desired to return as quickly as possible.

The magical catastrophe which led to Nobu'tan returning to this world was baffling, and quite a surprise for the ogre, albeit he was pleased that it happened, naturally, as it resulted in his creation and ascendancy to a higher plain of thinking. The set up of other warlocks and eventually the flight from the land of Britain was also intriguing, although the ogre was not sure how he and his clan were to fit into this grand scheme.

"So, you want us for strong warriors and more warlocks, as to need to rely less on the Legion itself?" the other head asked once the story concluded, clearly grasping the situation a little more than Teg was.

"Precisely," Nobu'tan admitted, "the ogres were one of the great weapons of the Horde, and one that I wish to imitate as much as possible, as not only are they formidable warriors, but like you they will be gifted magi and cunning powerhouses of devastation to my enemies."

"And what do we get in return?" Teg added, wondering what the other ogres had wanted from this Horde, in exchange for their strength.

"The lands that they came from were dying, devoid of life and things wherewith to sustain them. green pastures awaited in Azeroth, which is what I offer to your clan, a place rich with magic that ogres can carve out a home, one where they may indeed become a forceful power in the world, and be respected and not only feared and attacked on sight." Nobu'tan replied.

Teg'Ramm considered this. It would be promising to his people, even enticing for them to not have to live in fear, far away from humans, but actually own lands other than the rocky inhospitable sections of the world, although most would choose those regardless, but he himself craved something more. "And I shall rule over this new empire of ogres?"

"If that is your desire, then we will make it so. I heard rumors from the orcs from Draenor that a might ogre empire once existed, but I do not know the details. It would be fascinating to learn firsthand what your people are truly capable of, with a little help from us to get them started of course." the boy agreed, smiling.

"Then we are in agreement. I will help your Burning Legion enter this world, in exchange for safety of all ogres that join us, and passage into this new world of Azeroth." The ogre mage said, sitting up straighter and nodding firmly.

"Excellent," Nobu'tan replied, "then our work begins in earnest, to make sure that your magical might is sufficient to impressed and frighten even the strongest of your clan's warriors."

The twin heads of the ogre mage smiled. This was going to prove most enlightening. Soon they returned outside for more practical work on spells and powers of the Nether, bypassing several of the humans that lived in the castle, which fell back afraid of Teg'Ramm as he passed. The twin-headed ogre mage merely looked at the young human children with curiosity, and a small amount of pity, for their race was so small and frail, but he chose not to interact with them. It was probably wisest, as they might had attacked if he tried to so much as pick up the boy who had fallen when spotting the massive ogre moving through the corridor.

Drilling through the same spells again to warm up his connection to the Nether, Teg'Ramm listened intently as Nobu'tan provided even more of the basic spells and approached to the ways of a Warlock, through either internal corruption of an opponent, and the second demonic summoning that was taught every learner, the mighty Voidwalker.

Again and again the ogre magi seemed to impress his master, taking in each new spell and mastering it within minutes, only stumbling slightly on making a stone from the soul of a small animal, which could sustain life temporarily if needed. He had accidentally made the stone too small, and crushed it with his powerful hands by mistake.

Still, the raging fire within himself soon demanded to be released, and Nobu'tan obliged to show the ogre magi the ways to conjure blasts and waves of the Felfire for himself, as well as bolts of pure chaotic energy, which could annihilate his foes on a whim.

These spells of pure destruction would be most impressive to his clan, and Teg'Ramm knew that this marked the beginning of a new era for his people, the ogres. After hearing the stories, the new mage understood why Nobu'tan disagreed with the wizards of this world on the name for his race, and he found himself agreeing. If they were to go to this Azeroth and mingle with the ogres already living there, then his clan would need to adopt some of their same mannerisms and traits.

But not all of them, if they were to rule over these other ogres and recreate some vision of a mighty empire. Through this Legion's power, all doors had been opened to Teg'Ramm, and he gloried in the simply irony of the situation. Where even Nobu'tan was subservient to these demons, the ogres were only loyal as far as their bargain was concerned. Soon that pact would end, and they would be free to pursue their own agenda, even if that opposed their old masters…


	35. C34: Avalon, land of the Feywilds

**Many hanks to those who reviewed two weeks ago, and thanks as well to everyone who voted on the poll. I am keeping it up to the end of this week, and them I will be closing it, although I believe that the results are probably set the way that they will stand. Naturally, as it has been with you all, I am surprised at the results, in part, and of course the top pick is one that I have not committed any writing to previously, making that one a touch more difficult, but I will manage, as it was one that was interesting to me. With that said, on with the chapter. ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Five**

 **Avalon, land of the Feywilds**

Draco couldn't believe how quickly Hermione came to the conclusion, correctly, that it was he and the warlocks that had disrupted her precious ritual to located Lord Nobu'tan. Naturally he wouldn't admit it to her face, as that would cause a drastic falling out between their orders, and potentially lead to the first shot of a war that would wage for ages afterward. Somehow, Draco felt that such a falling out was inevitable, but if he could stall it for a year or two more, it would be worth it in the end. The more that they learned that these arcane wielding mages were capable of first; the better they could defeat them when the time came to fight.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco spotted Professor Snape approaching, with clear intent to break up whatever was going on, and he smirked inwardly. Even though the man was clearly some sort of a traitor, which had to be the case if he hadn't been invited to learn the Fel magic of the Legion by his father, then he couldn't be completely trusted, and from his aura Draco could tell that he had learned the Arcane magic of the mage, probably from Dumbledore himself, which did not bode well to him aiding his Slytherins as much as he had in the past.

"What is going on here, then…" the man said, his usual sneer fixed firmly in place as he loomed over the group of third and younger years, his withering stare making those not of his house step back in surprise.

"Nothing sir," Draco said quickly, "just a friendly debate that might be getting too heated for anyone's liking."

"Well," the professor said slowly as he locked eyes with the warlock, "make sure that it doesn't get out of control. We don't want accidents to happen on the grounds… Madam Pomfrey is booked enough as it is with all the colds."

"Of course, sir…" Draco said, backing off from Granger a step as Severus turned to leave.

With a look that clearly stated that the discussion wasn't over, Granger left with her mages, leaving the warlocks of the Black Harvest to themselves. "Like it or not, Granger is too much of a rule keeper to be a real threat sometimes," Blaise commented from Draco's left, making some of the newer warlocks snicker.

"Yes, but she is growing too close to the truth, and we need to formulate a good united reason for why her ritual failed that will delay her for a good long time, or at least deflect blame from us…" Draco replied turning to lead the group back to the dungeons, and the relative warmth that awaited them in the fires of the common room.

Things had started to change since they started heavy recruitment in Slytherin. Many fourth years and younger had joined their ranks, starting the basic practices of Nether magic, and the common room was abuzz with what their Order was capable of, along with rumors flying of where the Lord Nobu'tan was and doing, not that many outside of the official caste of warlocks from the Order of the Black Harvest knew of his true name or whereabouts.

Draco had been told via letter from his father, that once the Christmas holidays started in a week, they would all be gathering for a ritual to aid Nobu'tan with acquiring yet another of the artifacts that the demon lords had demanded from them.

It was exciting, knowing that they were on the cusp of something extremely new and possibly world changing, but at the same time there were great dangers in what was to come. Lucius, through a code only know to Malfoys in their system of writing, had made mention that there was possibility of Ministry involvement, which could indicate some sort of conflict, and that had Draco nervous with anticipation. While he was not eager to fight against fellow humans, least of all to actually try to kill people, the prospect of being that close to a battle was intense.

It was almost impossible for him to contain himself for the last week that the Order of the Black Harvest laid low at Hogwarts, watching and waiting for the term to end. Keeping his eyes open during mealtimes and classes, Draco noticed that both Professor Snape and Dumbledore seemed as tense and eager for the holiday to begin as the warlock Slytherins were, which added to the concept that something significant was about to happen.

Even Granger, in her ignorance of the topic, noticed that something was amiss somewhere along the line, but her attempts to discuss it were more or less brushed off. Draco was not willing to give her information that she did not need at this time.

At long last, the tense week ended, and after hastily packing all of his belongings into his trunk, just in case something happened and he did not end up returning to Hogwarts, Draco joined his fellow conspirators as they boarded the horseless carriages to take them back to the Express in the Hogsmeade station.

The exchange of glances between them as they boarded the scarlet train and took a compartment for themselves were filled with excited nerves, as well as a hesitation to betray anything by accident, almost bordering on paranoia what would make Mad-Eye Moody suspicious or proud, depending on the man's mood.

Speaking of the retired Auror, he had been on the platform in Hogsmeade, watching the crowds of students as they filed onto the train, although to what end, the warlocks never discovered, because although the man looked knowingly at each of them with his crazed blue magical eye, he neither said nor did anything to hinder them.

They eventually put the thoughts of the mad Auror behind them, locked within their compartment, and charmed so that they could not be disturbed, the members of the formal Order of warlocks discussed their plans for what limited amount of time they would possess this holiday, if there was any before they were summoned to Lord Nobu'tan's side for this ritual. They also speculated, in brief, what that might entail, but fear of being overheard kept them from discussing it too much, as even inside their compartment, there was chances for something to have been placed there to spy on them.

Finally, when the train started to slow as it pulled into King's Cross station, Draco could barely restrain himself from dashing improperly from the train with all haste, and he could tell the same urge had crossed the minds of his compatriots. Still, they controlled the desire, and walked with the nobility and class that their pure blood afforded them, greeting their respective parents along the way. "Father," Draco said, smiling as Lucius acknowledged him with a nod, before turning to the apparition point as they normally would. Taking the offered hand, the thirteen year old warlock felt the familiar sense of side-along apparition, but was surprised when they landed not in the family gathering place of the manor, but the spacious front entryway.

They were also not alone for long, as in pairs, or trios in the case of Theodore and his father with Blaise, the other warlocks started to arrive. Macnair and Dolohov were already present, entering from a side room once the others started to arrive "Lord Nobu'tan requested that we attend to him as quickly as time allowed once we were reunited," Lucius explained to the younger warlocks quickly, even as he pulled a small item from his robes. Draco expected a Portkey, but it was some sort of seal with a strange, foreign design upon it, and the Pureblood Lord pressed down upon it with his thumb for several moments, before releasing it and returning the item to his robes.

"We will need to prepare the usual disguises for us all," he explained to the other adults, and they nodded, before withdrawing wands and starting to conjure illusions of both darkness and mist around them, changing from human to strange beings with overlarge teeth and dark green skin. Draco realized that the creatures that had supposedly kidnapped Nobu'tan from their manor were actually these clever disguises, and was eager to accept his when the adults had finished and turned to enchant the younger ones one by one, instructed them on how the changes were woven with both wand and Nether magic, so that even a dispelling charm from a wizard could not remove it.

Sometime after they were finished, and Draco was admiring the work that his father had done, turning him into a shorter version of the same creature, with gleaming crimson eyes and a large under bite, there was a shimmer from the center of the room. Instinctively they all stepped away as half a dozen strange, purple claw-like hands appeared from within the shimmering space, literally pulling open a tear in space, and revealing the black clad form of Nobu'tan, standing on firm soil of some distant location just on the other side of the portal.

"Welcome, my friends," he said as they crossed from the manor to the strange island, "to the isle of Avalon. Everything is prepared for our ritual to bridge the gap from here to the Feyland, but time is short, but even now I can sense our enemies at work to prepare to thwart our efforts.

As Draco looked about, he was surprised to see that the area of land that they were standing upon was encircled about on all sides by a high stone wall, and patrolling just inside this barrier were around thirty massive trolls, at least four of them more massive and bizarre than the others, with two heads and bright blue hues, with runes etched directly into their leathery skin.

"Come," Lucius said, his voice gravelly and coarse due to the enchantments disguising him from casual sight. The warlocks moved as a group, even as the portal closed behind them, toward a circle of waist high stones that were set around the entryway of some ruined building, little more than markers of the ancient foundation now, but clearly and unmistakably some sort of muggle religious building from the outline it presented.

"There is magic here that I have never experienced before…" Nott Sr. stated in wonder as they approached the spot where Nobu'tan stood, in the exact center of the circle of rune stones.

"Yes," Nobu'tan agreed, even as his appearance shifted from human into that on an orc, hunched and old appearing, with gleaming red eyes and long beard. From Lucius' lack of reaction, it was a form that the more powerful warlock had taken before, and likely the source of what they based their disguises upon as well. Did this mean that they had been disguised as the mysterious orcs of the boy's chosen family?

"One member of the council will stand between two stones, while I remain in the middle to guide and channel the combined energy of us all." Nobu'tan explained, pointing at each location, and Blaise, Theodore, Yaxley, Lucius and Draco all took their places. "The others will assist my clan of ogres in defending this place from whatever threat presents itself while we carve a pathway into Avalon, so that I may travel there and claim the artifact we seek."

"Yes, Lord Nobu'tan," the other seven said, and they fanned out around the outside of the stones, watching the trolls and the stone walls beyond them, waiting for anything. From what Draco knew about, it was likely that the Ministry, or Dumbledore, or even both groups separately would be drawn to the level of magic they were about to unleash.

"These rituals would normally go unnoticed on a world as rich as Azeroth," Nobu'tan commented to them, addressing the very thing Draco was thinking about, "but on a world as magically drained in comparison, such as this one, there will be echoes that sound across the planet with this much magic we shall use. I will be surprised if we go unhindered in our attempts… Let us begin…"

Draco wasn't sure what he was expected to do, but followed the movements of the others around the circle of stones, watching as Nobu'tan raised both his hands to the stone he faced from the center of the circle, and launched beams of green Fel-energy into the stone surface, causing the runs written upon it to flare the same color, and Draco standing to one side of it, felt compelled to reach a hand toward it.

Upon doing so, he felt energy leap from it to his hand, mingling with his own, and he realized what needed to be done. The stones were to be powered by the Nether, as a battering ram to smash down the ancient magic that held Avalon and the mortal world apart.

Calling upon the dark gifts from beyond this world, Draco felt himself fill up to an immeasurable amount of magic, before reaching toward the next stone on his other side, letting that power slip through him like a funnel, pouring it into the stone like water into a bowl. He could feel the emptiness of the new stone, and the warmth as it slowly filled with magic itself, much like he had done.

Once each stone was charged in like manner, beams shot from each, connecting it to every other stone, forming the most powerful symbol that Draco had learned of in Ancient Runes, the pentagram. Magically it was extremely stable, and the foundation for most ritual magic, especially those with potentially volatile results.

Nobu'tan began to chant in a language that Draco did not understand, and briefly he wondered whether it was the language of the orcs, or of demons… But even as he did so, there were thunderous cracks of apparition from outside the stone walls, as well as gasps of amazement and fear, which told Draco that they had been discovered, far quicker than he had expected them to be. A barrier of Fel magic rose up around them, even as Nobu'tan continued his spell to direct their combined magical power, and out of the corner of his eye Draco saw one of the massive, twin-headed trolls waving its hands in mystical gestures, seeming to craft the shield out of excess magic from the ritual, allowing their own power to strengthen their defenses.

It was a clever trick, and not something that Draco would have expected from such a normally brutish creature. It also served to dull the sounds from outside the shield, which allow Draco to focus completely upon channeling his energy for the ritual, and learn as much as he could about what they were doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm could sense the approach of other humans from outside the walls. Like an oncoming storm they appeared out of thin air, and swiftly approached the banks of the swampy moat that surrounded their makeshift keep. The high walls prevented them from seeing their peril, as the ogre clan had readied themselves for battle, with armor to cover their exposed weaker points, and massive war clubs that would smash anything to pieces, heavily enchanted by the four ogre magi.

He himself wore large, enchanted robes that were strong for a light moveable cloth, and wielding a branch that he had carved into a makeshift staff, intending to channel his demonic powers through it while they waited for their enemies to arrive, but that time was now and he would have to make do with what he had.

Knowing they had but moments before the wizards decided to blast a section of wall apart on their own, or just fly over on their contraptions, the ogre mage lord led the other three magi around in a quick march, preparing their warriors for battle, using the dark magic of the Fel to inspire a deep and insatiable bloodlust in each of the most veteran of their warriors, watching as the powerful warriors started to froth at the mount in their desire to crush bone and flesh beneath their clubs.

At a mutual signal from the others once complete, Teg'Ramm looked toward the nearest section of the wall to the main force of wizards, and focused his magic, channeling it through his staff to focus the destructive magic into a single sphere of dark flame. The master had spent time crafting these walls for them, but a door was the one thing they lacked to be able to meet their enemies in battle. This had to be rectified immediately.

A great plume of flame shot out from his raised hand, blasting the section of wall outward with great force. If the falling rubble didn't crush some of the attackers, then they would at least be startled into respectful fear as the ogre warriors charged out, leaping across the water to engage them as they roared in their magically induced madness.

Teg'Ramm and the other ogre magic filled the hole that he had made with their bodies, casting magical shields around them to protect from spells of these wizards, while conjuring flame and shadows to try and pick off attackers from afar.

Lord Nobu'tan would have as much time as he could give, Teg'Ramm owed the warlock that much of his loyalty at the least, until they arrived safely at this new world that the young human had promised for them all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor was part of the initial group of Aurors called into action by Madam Bones when the Unspeakables in the Ministry had detected a great deal of dark magic being used in the region known around the Wizarding World as the fabled isle of Avalon. For such a sacred place to their world, and British wizards specifically, to be the location of such a perversion of magic was unacceptable. Ever eager to be seen in positive light, Minister Fudge had loudly and public called for action to be taken, and ordered the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to take her Aurors and stop this, and whatever dark wizard was behind it.

Alastor already knew that he, Albus and Snape were well aware of whom the cause could be, due to Snape's scouting of the location nearly a week previously, but he feigned ignorance just the same. The Order of the Phoenix was not prepared to deal with such a threat, especially if there were any of those creatures that had 'taken' the boy with him.

Arriving with twenty other Aurors at the shores of the swampy lake where the isle lay in mist, Alastor glanced at the font of magic that was pouring out from within the stone walls that seemed to have been hastily placed by magic around the island. His magical eye, now enhanced even further by the powers of the Arcane, thanks to Dumbledore, he could easily see the forty or so figures inside the circle of walls, as well as the multitude of literal flying eyes, wreathed in flame that looked down at the advancing force.

"They are aware of us already," he muttered in an undertone to the leader of the company, an Auror that was significantly Alastor's junior, but the scarred man was not about to start stepping on anyone's toes until the fight started.

"Are you sure?" the man said, but movement within the camp told Alastor all he needed to know. "Shield's up!" he called, not caring if the younger man was in charge or not, their safety was more important.

Shouts of " _Protego_ ," went up all around them only moments too soon, also, as with a thunderous crash one section of the walls exploded outward, the shrapnel alone lancing right through their clusters. Anyone who failed to comply with the order would have been shredded by the onslaught of rock, or crushed from above by the larger boulders.

Only after the initial shock subsided did they realize however, that the attack from the wall was merely a cover to unleash a new monstrosity upon them. Over a dozen trolls charged from the new hole in the wall, leaping across the swampy moat and swinging their clubs madly, roaring in some sort of war cry. Leaping out of the way of one of the clubs, Alastor could feel the ground shake from where the wooden branch dug deeply into the soil.

Many others weren't so lucky, screaming as their bodies were pulverized by the sudden appearance of so many foes. "Fire! Use fire!" Alastor heard the leader shout, and he was thankful that Amelia had at least chosen someone with a brain. Gouts of flames started to fly, the one great weakness of the troll, but even as they did so, Alastor saw a pair of Aurors caught up in a blast of pure darkness, that originated from the fortifications.

His magical eye whirling to look, Alastor felt his blood run cold as he spotted a squad of new creatures, similar to trolls, but extremely intelligent looking, wielding staves and sporting multiple heads as well as glowing runes etched onto the leather hides of their bodies.

The frightful abominations stood guard over the gateway that had been blasted out of their defenses, chanting and throwing spells into the ranks of Aurors with deadly accuracy, the sheer destructive power being magnified by whatever else was going on just inside those walls.

Alastor knew that with the forces that had at this moment, they would be overrun and driven away with ease, but just then the sharp cracks of apparition sounded, and another wave of Aurors appeared, led by Scrimgeour, the dour man with a mane of hair flying wildly as he overlooked the scene momentarily, before shouting the order to attack and sending a great blast of flame at the quad of blue-skinned trolls.

One of the heads of the closest two-headed troll turned, and with a slight gesture extinguished the fireball as though it was nothing to it, before returning to its work of destruction. "We can't fight in these conditions," Alastor said, falling back to Scrimgeour's position nearer the rear of the battle, tagging a troll with a powerful jet of flames, which caused it to howl in anger, and somehow start fighting even more ferociously.

"I agree, we need more of a strategy than to simply wade in and presume that our magic would be sufficient to win the day." The man said, agreeing.

"Perhaps we can help!" said a voice from the woods, and the two men turned to see Amelia, leading a fresh regiment of red robed Aurors, each carrying sacks on the shoulders. "Start transfiguring stones and trees into projectiles to hurl at those walls." She ordered, "I want those troll wizards to think twice before coming back out to support their forces!"

The men and women hastened to obey, and were soon banishing boulders and massive logs at the walls and nearby trolls, just as a pillar of magic flared into existence on the far side of the walls. "Alastor, what in Merlin's name is going on in there," Amelia asked, a trace amount of worry in her voice.

"I cannot tell," Alastor admitted, his eye becoming overloaded just looking in that direction. Just then, from atop the walls, more trolls appeared, hurling more boulders and other hefty projectiles into their ranks, returning fire for what the wizards were giving them. The magical trolls, for their part, had not moved, but two of the behemoths worked defensive magic, obliterating anything that flew in their direction, while the other pair continued to unleash fire and shadow spells into the melee, taking down Aurors with extreme precision.

Alastor knew that their magic wouldn't be enough to contend with those blue-skinned monsters, but perhaps the Arcane could challenge them enough to turn the tide. Limping forward, Moody drew from the wellspring of power that lay thickly around the sacred isle, empowering him far more than the lines at Hogwarts ever did.

Flames surged from within Alastor, forming spheres in his hands. Hurling them with his might at the trolls, again the brutish mages shielded, but Alastor could tell that this time, the impact of the Arcane magic taxed their strength far more than anything up to that point.

Only barely registering the gasp of shock from Amelia and Scrimgeour, and smirking to himself, Alastor gave in to the desire of flame, jets rocketed from his one real foot, propelling him forward into battle, while magical fire flared up his arms, being propelled with little more than thought and mild gestures, sending gouts of flame at the various trolls that were hampering the wizarding force outside the walls, even as he cut through the melee, heading for the four magi-commanders that were blocking their path inside the fortification.

The trolls fell back against the onslaught of fire, their weakness revealed as the wizarding force took the advantage. Several of the brutes were brought down in short order due to the surprise change of the flow of battle. The magi on the other hand, seemed prepared for the surprise attack, and changed tactics, three of them falling back into the compound while the last, carrying a staff and clad in flowing robes, raised one monstrous arm high and let loose a barrage of the most warped, chaotic magic that Alastor had ever experienced, forming great draconic heads upon the missiles that flew at him.

Quickly changing course, Alastor dodged out of the way as the spells crashed into the ground he had previously occupied, leaving massive craters that smoked with green flames. But the time it took to evade the attack allowed the troll to escape into the fortification. The other trolls were scattering into the woods on all sides, opening the way for the Auror force to press to the fort.

Alastor was the first to reach the wall, but he was smarter than to enter immediately. Now that he was closer his eye could pinpoint what lay just beyond the physical barrier much better, and he knew that lines of demonic creatures waited just inside to ambush whoever was foolish enough to charge in. catching the next Auror hard in the chest with a thrown out arm, Alastor prevented the eager young man from running straight to his death.

"Constant Vigilance," he said, much less of the usual barking madness in his voice as he fixed his gaze on the foes just before them. "We need to circle around, this entrance is a trap."

The man nodded, even as the others came to a skidding halt around them. "What are your orders?" the boy he stopped asked, speaking for them all.

Alastor didn't respond, but pointed upward, indicating at a group of Aurors to take to the top of the wall, try and get an advantage over their enemies. The leaders of Scrimgeour's regiment nodded, gathering their troops and preparing to apparate.

"Heavy shields in the front; be prepared for a barrage," Alastor ordered, conjuring fire into his hands once more. He would apparate to the top first and become a distraction for the demon forces to give the other aurors time to get into position.

"Yes Sir!" the Aurors said, and Alastor turned, with a heavy crack of magic appeared on the top of the wall. Even as he let loose with more fire, and heard the other wizards appear all around him, his magical eye alone was what guided his attacks. His real eye was stuck, transfixed on the circle of magical stones at the far end of the fortification, where a half dozen of the strange green creatures stood, channeling powerful magic into one of their own, which seemed to be on the verge of something massive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan could feel the great power welling up before him, the immense magical strength that so many warlocks could achieve together. The battle raging around them was of no concern, as their shield was directly linked to the amount of power they were generating, protecting them from outside and those outward from any mishap that might happen within.

Not that the orc-raised human would allow such a thing. He had already pinpointed the exact spot in space that the portal was still somewhat open, a relative pinprick in the universe that connected these two planes, and he was prepared to use this immense power to bore that gap in reality even wider.

"Now is the time!" he announced to the gathered warlocks, "I shall entered the land of Avalon, and claim the prize that waits there for us, trapped in the mist that boarders our realms."

And he reached forward, manipulating the stored funnel of energy forward, until it shaped into a wedge and pierced into the space where Fey magic leaked into the world. Magical discharge flared in all directions, as the portal started to form. So long as the warlocks kept channeling, the portal ought to remain open, long enough for Nobu'tan to enter, find the relic they sought, and escape.

As soon as the portal was wide enough, Nobu'tan divided the power to holding the edges of the rift apart for him, and marched purposefully into the breach between earth and Avalon. The first thing he recognized was that most of the stories and legends he had read of this place were all merely in part true, or more accurately they were true only if you took them all together.

The land was green and verdant, looking much as the island he had just left, but wild and untamed, with great trees that he had never before seen growing in all directions. Then one had to consider the massively strange magic that wafted in the air like a wild creature, incredibly powerful but elusive.

"Impressive, isn't it…" said a voice behind him, and Nobu'tan whirled to face a older man, probably around the age of Lucius Malfoy in appearance, clad in a simple brown robe and carrying a walking stick, other hand gently stroking a fine brown beard. "The Fey Wilds of Avalon are truly a sight to behold… but who are you, we haven't had visitors in many an age."

Instantly on edge, Nobu'tan realized that he spoke directly with the man who was guardian of this world, positioned here in Avalon to guard his prize, the fabled master Merlin himself. "I am a great sorcerer, who seeks a relic said to be lost in these wilds, perhaps you could help me in my quest stranger… I have limited time to search before I have to go back." he said persuasively, looking back at the gateway.

"Perhaps I might be of help," the Guardian said, "We here in Avalon have little need for these sorts of artifacts, so with few exceptions we could part with whatever you might have need of. From you garb and look of earnest need, I presume it's some sort of emergency. Walk with me…"

Nobu'tan followed the man, knowing that they in fact walked very little, but the scenery seemed to change radically regardless, despite them never truly leaving the massive forest. He suspected that it was world-wide in this land. With Merlin in his company, it seemed that the natural denizens of the plane were less afraid to reveal themselves, and the warlock saw many strange and altogether fascinating creatures. Tiny winged fairies fluttered around reflective pools, and occasionally flying up to Merlin himself to chatter in some unknown language, mostly which made the man laugh.

Other creatures, that seemed to be half woman and half deer leapt through undergrowth as Merlin led Nobu'tan to a forest clearing where a massive tree stood, with many trinkets and other items hanging from the branches like metallic fruit.

"The creatures of the wilds being them here if they have no use for them, and if you see what you need, feel free to take it. But for the sake of the world's balance, I expressly need you to only take one," Merlin said, gesturing at the relics that adorned the tree like baubles.

Nobu'tan was stunned by the absolute lack of care that the man was giving these items, as some felt quite powerful magically, to his senses. But he had a mission, and was pressed for time. Searching quickly, he did not find the Torque for some time, until, eventually, he came across a warped knot in the tree, which seemed to be a tiny window into the inside of it. Looking within, Nobu'tan saw that there was the figure of an elegant woman inside the tree, with more relics adorning her body, and the Torque around her neck.

"I want the necklace that the woman has," he said innocently, acting as though he had no clue as to who the woman could be.

"Alas, her and the items she wears are those that we cannot permit to return to the world of men," Merlin said, shaking his head, "I cannot allow any to open this tree and reawaken her, as there is no knowing how much damage she could do before recaptured. I am sorry. Please choose another…"

"There is no other artifact I need, but the Torque of Morgan le Fey," Nobu'tan declared, starting to look for a way to open the tree. But even as he reached a hand toward the little hole, vines shot from the ground and ensnared his wrist. Turning back to Merlin, the man had a hand raised, controlling the vines, "I cannot allow you to inadvertently release that witch into the Fey Wilds, even less so with a portal to the mortal world open."

"Then I shall not ask you you're permission, Guardian!" Nobu'tan seethed, unleashed Fel fire to burn the vines away, "but shall take what I desire by force!"

Whirling on the man, who seemed less than prepared for the sudden escalation, Nobu'tan unleashed a small wave of fire, hoping to push Merlin away from the tree, and give the warlock the time he needed to lay waste to it. The ancient druid and wizard dodged, with quick motions of his hands summoning forth blasts of sunlight, "Rise up defenders of the Wild!" he cried, and from the nearby trees Fey creature burst forth, angrily charging at the warlock.

"I sensed your darkness, stranger, but I had hoped to placate you and send you on your way without a fight. I see that I was wrong…" Merlin said sternly, all effects of his grandfatherly demeanor gone in a flash. "But you are alone here, and outnumbered. I suggest you leave this place, and never return."

"I am not alone…" Nobu'tan snarled, calling out to the powers of the Fel in the Twisted Nether.

Demons burst forth from his summoning, Ikzilgoril the Felguard leading the charge of wild imps that surged in packs of raving madness. The druid and his natural allies fell back at the sudden rush, even as the sky of the Fel Wilds changed to a darker hue, affected by the surge of dark magic in the air.

From behind him, Nobu'tan felt the prisoner stir in her tree, and now knew the method of releasing Morgan le Fey. Calling upon all the power of the Fel that he possessed, Nobu'tan transformed into his demonic form, claws grasping a pair of fairies as they tried to rush his, crushing the life from their tiny bodies.

Fel flames leapt up upon his whim, spreading in all directions to create a barrier between him and the other creature of the Wilds, even as he turned to the prison of the most powerful witch in existence. Plunging both claws deeply into the bark, Nobu'tan fed demonic energy into the living prison, feeling the tree itself recoil in horror as it started to die from within.

One of the deer creatures leapt over the flames, brandishing a spear made from vines and branches of trees, but the warlock swung one powerful clawed hand, catching her midsection and sending the creature flying back, even as he pushed more Fel magic through his body.

"No, you mustn't allow her to awaken!" Merlin called from beyond the flames, even as Nobu'tan felt the tree shudder from within. It was close, so very close, and the Torque would be within his grasp.

The flames were momentarily buffeted aside, causing Nobu'tan to turn, even as Merlin charged through, all aspects of a gentle old man gone as the magical giant stormed at the man-sized demon, eyes aglow with fierce purple Arcane magic. Within himself, the warlock smiled. He knew that the magic of the Arcane had to have existed on this world at some point.

Only, he didn't have long to appreciate the discovery of Merlin the Archmage and Guardian of the Earth, as he was literally face to face with the angered mage and his volatile wrath. Purple arcane bolts assaulted him, but the Fel magic that infused his new form protected the warlock completely.

Still, he was forced away from the tree momentarily as the Guardian leapt to press his attack. With a gesture, more demons were summoned to deal with the Fey creatures that continued to charge from the ethereal woods all around, and Nobu'tan set his focus completely on the wizened druidic mage.

They began to trade spell for spell, Fel bolts and Arcane missiles flying through the greenery, flames flaring up all around the clearing. every attempt that Nobu'tan made to close distance or reach the tree were rebuffed by the very plants of the grove, forming a wall of greenery that he had to burn through, if he had been given the chance by Merlin.

"All I have worked for will not be undermined by the likes of you, Dark one!" the man declared. "Not by you, nor your demon masters!"

With a roar of rage, Nobu'tan rose up a wave of Fel flame, which the mage dispelled from around him; however, Merlin had not been Nobu'tan's target. The wall of foliage blazed around the prison tree of Morgan, slowly creeping toward it, and setting the upper branches alight.

Suddenly the tables had turned, and it was Nobu'tan pressing the attack to keep Merlin from stopping his fire from burning the prison away. Reeling back, Merlin used his staff to bat away volley after volley of Fel fire and Void bolts, but he was being pressed away from the tree. Summoning another pair of imps, Nobu'tan set the little creatures on the old mage, turning and leaping through the air with aid of his demonic wings to the tree.

There was a burst of magic, and the artifact ridden prison was torn asunder, revealing the beautiful form of Morgan le Fey, still hovering in her prison, bangles and artifacts around her.

All he desired was the Torque, all else be forgotten, and with only the briefest of glances at Merlin, long enough to launch a few choice spells at the man, Nobu'tan reached a clawed hand forward and seized the collar-like necklace.

The moment the necklace was removed, there was a shuddering quake, and Nobu'tan saw the ancient witch open her eyes, vibrantly purple with flecks of Fel green. Morgan smirked widely as she glanced around her before raising one hand, decked with golden rings and bracelets. A brilliant ring of flames exploded around them both, raging outward to drive away both demon and Fey alike. Merlin was hurled bodily against the nearest tree, crumpling at the base, unconscious or dead, Nobu'tan didn't care.

Morgan le Fey eyed him suspiciously, with a small smirk on her face. "Might I see the true face of the one who freed me?"

Nobu'tan paused, realizing that this woman was probably the most dangerous mortal that he had ever encountered, easily rivaling the power of a Nathrezim on her own. Therefore, he obeyed, shedding the skin of his demonic form, and even dispelling the illusion of an orc warlock, so that he did not seem to be attempting to deceive the powerful witch.

"Ah, what a sweet innocent face, to disguise such raw destructive power…" she cooed, patting his face in a motherly fashion that sent shivers down Nobu'tan's spine. This was a level that Sartai could never hope to achieve in the methods of female wiles and dangerousness.

"Come, we must leave," he said, glancing at the form of Merlin, that had yet to recover from being blasted with Fel magic from his age old rival.

"Yes, it will be good to return to the real world once more, after so many years imprisoned here by that snake…" Morgan agreed.

She took him by the hand and led Nobu'tan with purpose, somehow knowing right where his portal was. The warlock guessed that the powerful ancient witch could sense the pulsating magic seeping from the bridge between worlds, and was drawn to it naturally.

Even as they arrived, she was already talking again, "As reward for releasing me, you may keep that artifact that was once my own. I suspect it was your original intent for coming to this sacred place, wielding what powers you have received from the dark masters of the Burning Legion."

Somehow, it did not surprise Nobu'tan to learn that the great Morgan le Fey knew of the Burning Legion, seeing as she wielded a portion of their fel magic.

"I thank you, Lady Morgan…" Nobu'tan responded, even as he led the way through the portal back to the real world.

As he stepped back into the real world, he was momentarily blinded by the bright colored flashes that flared around the shield, but he held the Torque high in victory. "We must leave this place now, and continue the operation." He declared, even as Morgan breathed the free air again.


	36. C35: Horrors of the Deep

**Wow, I knew that the previous chapter would garner some attention, but the response in the positive was greatly beyond my expectations, many thanks for those that reviewed and enjoyed it. And for those that clearly and plainly stated their desire for Nobu'tan X Morgan... just eww... no. She's easily centuries older than him, and he's only 13, so gross. Cradle snatching wouldn't even begin to describe that relationship. Alas, you'll all have to keep guessing, as that is not going to happen. But I digress, on with the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Five**

 **Horrors of the Deep**

Alastor Moody was astounded when the frighteningly beautiful woman stepped out of the midst of the powerful shield that was clearly protecting the other magic users from the interference of the Auror forces battling the trolls and demons that infested the island fortress. They were already being forced back from the small measure of advancement they had achieved, and whomever this new contender was she radiated magic like none that Alastor had ever witnessed before.

Suddenly, the magical shield dropped, exploding outward over all their heads in a flash of power and color, revealing a half dozen figures behind the woman, five of the strange creatures that had supposedly kidnapped Potter, and the boy himself standing in the midst of them all, looking perfectly calm and collected, which confirmed all that Alastor and Albus thought. Potter was not a hostage, but in league with these creatures and whatever their designs were.

The trolls started to fall back, along with the other members of the strange creatures, even as Potter flicked a hand, opening a portal of his own for them to retreat through, while the demons advanced to block the Aurors from following. Alastor himself was too far to try and intercept them, but that didn't stop him from launching volleys of fire at the retreating forms, albeit failing to strike any of them before they fled.

Unfortunately, that still left them to deal with the woman and the demons. And even as they kept fighting against the terrifying creatures, the woman raised her hands, chanting in an archaic language, which sounded highly Gaelic in origin, but not something that the scarred Auror recognized immediately.

But there was no mistaken the immense torrent of power that washed from the woman as she sent every Auror nearby flying into the air, while the demons were consumed in flames and blown into particles like ash. "The servants of the Legion will tremble before me for their treachery, and the world will know my might once again!" she cackled, before lifting into the air, unsupported by broom or other devise that Alastor could identify, before she soared over the landscape and out of sight.

Even as the woman vanished, Amelia and Rufus apparated to Alastor's side, looks of horror on their faces, "Alastor, what in the world was all this just now?" Amelia demanded, her monocle dangling from its chain where it had fallen from her eye.

"I honestly wish I knew," Alastor replied truthfully, "but whatever it was, I highly doubt that it is good for us…"

Rufus looked as though he was going to add something, when there was another flash of light, and they all turned to see in the place where Potter and his allies had disappeared a figure appear, slumped slightly in exhaustion and stumbling. The three wizards leapt into action, wands up just in case, and Alastor apparated nearer, hoping for some answers from this new individual, who was wearing a slightly soiled brown robe and a bushy beard that had the strangest assortment of leaves stuck between the hairs. He was completely unfamiliar to Alastor, but like the woman, his magical eye registered that there was immense power inside the man, and even more contained in the simple-looking walking stick that he carried in one hand, clutched tightly as though it was the most important item in the world.

Somehow, he knew that despite what the law would require of him, Albus would be the expert to actually meet with this person, even if Alastor was convinced that this person's power greatly eclipsed even Albus' great reserves, the Arcane aside.

Against his better judgment, Alastor approached closer, within touching distance of the figure, despite his typical reservation for putting himself in such a potentially dangerous situation with an unknown of such power. And he paid for it, when the man suddenly moved like lightning, reaching up with his free hand and grasping Alastor's wrist.

The jarring sensation of side-along apparition was bad enough, but this was on an entirely different level. Stumbling away from the figure, who was now standing, albeit weakly and leaning heavily on his staff, Alastor leveled his wand on him and fired a simple stunner.

What was more astounding was that the man seemed totally unfazed by the crimson jet of light, and only casually waved his hand to disperse the spell before it even reached him. "There is no need for that, Alastor Moody. I am quite on your side of this little affair regarding the warlock that invaded Avalon in search of secrets best left alone."

The surprise that this unknown figure knew his name was dwarfed by the intense desire to know everything that he was referring to. Already it seemed that this unknown person had more information than he or Albus about the madness and secrets that surrounded Potter.

Taking a moment to gaze around them, Alastor was somehow unsurprised that they were on the grounds of Hogwarts. "I sensed that you wished for your allies to learn what I have learned regarding the warlock that released Morgan. It would be wisest for us all to meet so I can tell my story only once."

The fact that the mysterious man was so unconcerned about all that had transpired baffled Alastor, but he found himself simply drawn to follow as the man approached the castle and school, bypassing a smattering of students who had remained for the holidays as they went, who looked on in confusion and awe as even the most unskilled of wizards could detect the power wafting off the man in waves.

Without even needing to be told where to do, the mysterious man led the way up to the Headmaster's office, waving his hand to start the gargoyle moving aside and the staircase rotating its way up to the office proper.

Albus was caught off guard as they entered his office, which told Alastor that even his normal sensor charms hadn't triggered when this person made his appearance. Looking up in surprise as they entered, Alastor was struck with the revelation like a bombshell as Albus guessed the identity of the man who had brought them here.

"Merlin… how can this be?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was not certain that he would fully understand the strangeness that Lord Nobu'tan described in the realm of Avalon, but the likelihood that they would be capable of returning there at all was slim, so after a brief explanation of fighting Merlin himself, Lucius allowed the topic to slide.

The end of the matter was that the Torque was claimed, even of Morgan le Fay had been released from her prison, and was currently running wild and free across the country, but that was a problem for the Ministry, and would only work to their advantage in buying the Order of the Black Harvest more time to seek the final artifact: The legendary Elder Wand from the Tale of the Three Brothers.

In Lucius' mind there could be no other item that the demon had referred to, in terms of powerful artifacts that compared in strength to the others that they had collected. Lord Nobu'tan was already hard at work identifying what Morgan's Torque actually did, and how it would mesh together with the others toward their final goal.

In the process of researching for the final item, Lucius was forced to consider some rather outlandish things, and he had a fair idea as to a potential lead toward understanding what might have happened so long ago with the wand supposedly made by Death itself.

Every Pureblood was aware of the strange order of wizards that sought the three items from the legend, seeking after their bizarre quest to unite the three. But Lucius only cared about the wand, so he felt that it would be safe enough to ask questions of Britain's local quest seeker of the supposed 'Hallows,' Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler.

The man was a certifiable loon, accepted and understood by most families, but if anyone was familiar with old legends that may or may not be true, it would be him.

Lucius had apparated to the lonely tower-like house that the man owned, ironically near to the lopsided hovel of the Weasleys, and approached past the odd plants and undesirable smells that infested the gardens around the house.

Xenophilius was suitably surprised and suspicious when he learned that Lucius was at his door, but Pureblood graciousness won out in the end, and he was invited inside. Politely declining the man's horrible herb-based drink, Lucius got straight to the point. "In researching several powerful artifacts from our ancient history, I stumbled upon some records that indicated that the Wand of Destiny might in fact be a reality, and I was hoping that you could provide me with more information as to whether the wand could be real, and if so where it might be located now."

Lucius somewhat regretted his action just then, as the man started to waffle on about the speculative nature of the Hallows and their locations based on the story, but at least he learned great information that it indeed exsisted, under many different names and wielded by different Dark Lords, but alas the trail had gone cold decades previously.

Still, there was a certified path of hands that had wielded some wand that they claimed to be more powerful than any other, and it was certain from the tale that the wand passed based on killing or otherwise removing the possession of the wand from the previous owner. Lovegood may have been mad, but his information seemed sounder than most of his usual claims and findings. Therefore Lucius was willing to suspend his innate disbelief of the man in this matter.

Returning quickly to his manor, Lucius sought out Nobu'tan, who was set up in his personal guest room, waving both wand and free hand, dripping with arcane magic, over the Torque in attempts to understand its properties.

"I have some leads that may assist us in locating the Elder Wand," Lucius informed the boy warlock, and Nobu'tan turned, setting down his wand.

"I have also just discovered the power of this Torque, and it is rather ingenious little artifact. It's no wonder that Merlin did not want it to fall back into mortal hands." Nobu'tan replied, and Lucius waited eagerly for the full explanation. He was not disappointed, "Permanency; or that ability to make a spell or effect of one last significantly longer than usual," Nobu'tan explained.

Lucius saw the application immediately, "so it will keep a massive portal open indefinitely, to allow the Legion access to this world."

"Precisely Lucius," Nobu'tan replied. "The Grimoire of Merlin holds the key of how to form large portals out of the standing stones, while the Diadem boosts the stability of the wearer, allowing them to think of more efficient ways to apply magic in the midst of a ritual. I could only presume that the wand is needed for sheer power to make the tear in time and space large enough for the demon lords to enter."

Lucius then began to retell the story that he had learned from Xenophilious, barring any unnecessary information that the man had seen fit to slot in with his story. Nobu'tan listened closely, and although Lucius knew that all this information was foreign at best to the warlock, he was impressed with the conclusion that the boy came up with regardless.

"So it is likely, as Dark Lord after Dark Lord possessed this wand, or many wands that they all claimed to be this wand, that perhaps those predating Voldemort were also in possession of it?" he speculated.

Lucius thought on that. It was true that the Dark Lord Voldemort had had no such obsession or gloating regarding his wand, therefore it was unlikely that his was anything more than a standard Ollivander creation, which implied the greatness of his own magical strength, however… if Lucius recalled correctly, Didn't the Dark Lord of fifty years previous, Grindlewald, have some obsession with the Hallows. There was something that connected the two concepts, Lucius knew it, but couldn't place it at the exact moment.

"It is possible," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "And I have a few ideas where to look for the moment, but it will take time to confirm my speculation."

Nobu'tan nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Now all that's left for me to do I find Morgan again and see what her objectives are, and whether I need to stop her myself before she achieves them…"

Lucius had a bad feeling regarding anything to do with the ancient witch, but he already could tell from Nobu'tan's face that the young warlock would not be dissuaded from that course of action. "I urge caution," was all that he said therefore, "she is dangerous at the best of times, if any of the old stories are remotely true."

"On that point we most certainly agree…" Nobu'tan said, smirking slightly as he turned toward the open window, conjuring his scrying eyes to hopefully seek out the witch without risking himself by running around the countryside.

Lucius left him to it, knowing that there was plenty for them all to be doing before the Aurors or Dumbledore riddled out where the boy was hiding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione was sitting in her room going over her History of Magic notes when she felt a tremendous surge of magic far to the south of the castle. From the magical signature, she was vaguely aware that Harry might have been involved in whatever that spike represented. It was strange that she could sense it even here however, as there was a drastic lack of any Ley Lines for her to manipulate to power the Arcane.

Perhaps her growing strength in the various methods was increasing her ability to draw upon lines from father away? It was an interesting theory that she could test later, but currently she wanted to send a message to the other mages and see if they too had felt the surge of magical activity. They had all been in constant communication, passing theories and possible techniques back and forth, especially from those who lived in large magical manors and could get away with practicing at home without the Ministry knowing anything.

Although they were all in agreement that due to the vastly different nature of Arcane magic, the Ministry was unlikely to be able to monitor it like they did wand-based magic.

Writing a quick missive, and copying it several times over, Hermione set the letters next to her window to await the next owl to arrive with news, before thinking about what she had felt, and what it might mean. If Harry was involved, it had to do with those creatures that kidnapped him, supposedly. Some of the others speculated that it could be that Harry was working with these creatures, and the kidnapping was staged to throw off where he was hidden, but it was a small portion that thought it _might_ be possible.

Perhaps she ought to test their theory about Arcane magic and the Ministry and see if she could determine some specifics regarding the burst of magic. Planting the memory of the strange sensation at the forefront of her mind, Hermione muttered to herself, weaving the fingers of her left hand, as the right grasped her quill firmly over blank parchment. Thoughts and impressions soon started to feed into her mind, describing a location, or an event, she wasn't perfectly sure, which was why she was recording her findings in writing.

The powers of the Arcane flowed easily through her, and soon an orb formed in her left hand, twitching and swiveling as she contemplated the burst of magic she had felt. There was some sort of island involved, heavily saturated with magic and Hermione could tell that it was important for some reason, and a blinding flash that spilled out a torrent of raw, and rather warped, Arcane magic.

Then, as she passed into some sort of trancelike state from the buildup of arcane magic in her room, Hermione started to see far more clearly. The strange green creatures huddled within a magical shield, channeling their dark magic to drive a wedge-like conduit of power into some unknown tear in space and time.

From within the doorway, Hermione could feel a certain kind of wildness, some font of magic that was strangely alien to her altogether, even with the knowledge of the Arcane with her. From this portal emerged Harry, alongside a stunningly gorgeous woman dressed in some sort of ancient attire, with many bangles and other trinkets adorning her person that radiated magic all their own.

Harry had an item as well, some sort of necklace or a choker more accurately, and he held it up for the green creatures to see, while gloating that they had what they wanted, before proceeding to weave his own dark type of power to rend a hole through the universe, where in they all started to retreat, aside from the woman, who smirked as she turned to look directly at Hermione.

Panicking slightly, as she felt the immense wellspring of power that that one gaze contained, Hermione lost the connection, and the spell fizzled. Sitting back, Hermione was vaguely aware of her hand cramping from intensely writing what she had seen, but there was still too much to ponder. Harry used dark magic, or at best was being forced to use it, which was only marginally better.

Either the woman was in charge of these green-skinned creatures, or they were allying with her. It seemed like something was clearly out of place, or not adding up, and definitely something to pass on to another person who had the skill and ability to deal with it. Hermione would be writing a letter to Professor Dumbledore regarding this, unless he had already felt the blast of magic and was investigating it himself.

It was likely, but it would be highly irresponsible if Hermione said nothing and the Headmaster had not yet noticed this. So another missive joined the others in a pile waiting for the next owl to appear, and Hermione attempted to return to her notes, occasionally pausing to glance at her written observations while channeling her spell.

The temptation to put aside her homework and look at the far more interesting concepts of her latest research was mounting steadily. There were still so many questions, and even for Hermione, goblin wars and other old world events that were so backwards from modern thinking were not nearly as entertaining as her classmates thought she found them to be.

So it was no surprise that, less than a half hour later, she had pushed the History of Magic work aside and was pouring over her notes that she had acquired regarding the burst of magic and its unknown connect to Harry Potter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus stood in amazement as the greatest historical figure of their age literally walked into his office. Merlin Ambrosius, also known less commonly as the Guardian of Avalon, or he who stood between the earth and the Feywilds, was already deep into his explanation of how he had returned to their world, the connection to the strange creatures who wielded Nobu'tan's dark magic, and most disturbing of all, the release of Morgan le Faye and the threat of the demons of the Burning Legion.

Albus had had to steady himself at the literally tide of information, as many thousands of little questions started to click into place. It seemed that according to the great wizard's tale, that Harry had somehow, either intentionally or unwittingly, become engrossed with the powers of a demonic horde that sought nothing more or less than to burn every world that they came in contact with, and was being used as one of their pawns here on earth to do… something…

Merlin had said that the boy had sought some artifact that had been Morgan's, and by the time he had followed they were already gone from the isle of Avalon, but the remnants of their Fel magic remained. Their guess as to what artifact the young warlock, as Merlin called Nobu'tan, would be as good as Merlin's own speculation.

Time functioned differently in Avalon, and due to that, certain details grew less and less important, one prime example being that Merlin himself was completely unaware of the hour of his arrival, it being well past dinnertime, and nearing the normal hour that Albus himself retired. But the Headmaster of Hogwarts made no mention of this, as the opportunity to speak with the greatest wizard who ever lived was simply too great to pass up.

"I do not know what exactly the boy intends," Merlin said after some time, now sitting in one of Albus' office chairs, stroking his fine brown beard in thought, "but knowing what madness the Legion always has in store, I would suspect that he is being forced to find a way to usher them here with all due haste. So the artifact must be some piece of the puzzle that he needs."

Albus widened his eyes in realization, "Portals…" he muttered, attracting the attention of Alastor, who had been quite silent this entire time, as well as Merlin. "Nobu'tan has been obsessed with the creation of long distance portals since we found him two and a half years ago."

"Yes," Merlin said, nodding to himself, "A big and powerful enough portal to a demon world would allow them entry to here, but that works to our advantage, as there is only a handful of places strong enough on earth to support such grand magic. One of which is ironically this school itself."

"What makes a location powerful enough?" Alastor piped up, reminding the ancient wizard of his presence.

"The number of Lay Lines," Merlin answered "I would guess three or more in one location would be minimally required for whatever ritual the boy would be planning for. There would also need to be some powerful artifacts in play to channel enough energy to allow the generals and other high ranking demons entry to another world, so I wouldn't be surprised if he has gathered, or plans to gather, others with his strange allies."

"So we could easily track where Nobu'tan plans to do this ritual by locating each area in Britain with three or more Ley Lines attached to it, and work from there to prevent this ritual of occurring." Albus said, very pleased that at long last, answers were had in regards to the boy's mysterious powers.

"I wouldn't underestimate him," Merlin retorted, "I did so to my folly, a grave misjudgment of his willingness to succeed. It hadn't crossed my mind that he would simply free Morgan to get an artifact from her. This unfortunately leads to the greater issue at hand… Morgan le Faye. Her being free is more of a threat than the Legion could ever hope to be at the moment."

"How so? She's only one witch, albeit extremely powerful…" Alastor started, but Merlin shook his head sadly.

"Morgan is not without allies, which ironically enough oppose the Legion themselves, and are older than time. She has likely gone to seek her hidden vaults and try once more to usher in the madness of these Elder Gods and release them, as she had so long ago when I first imprisoned her in Avalon. These creatures will do much worse to our world than the Legion could ever hope to accomplish, as they will not merely destroy the planet, but corrupt it to be like they are, twisted and corrupt, and altogether insane."

"So you know where she most likely is heading?" Albus asked, eager to assist if they could.

"I could guess, but there are several places that had been forgotten by man that she could have secreted herself in. at the least we know that she will be no help to your young warlock, as her factions are dramatically opposed to the Legion for reasons even I have only begun to understand before taking up my long vigil in Avalon." Merlin replied, holding up a hand, "but there are ways we can quickly locate her, which will tell me quickly where she plans to go."

And to Albus' great surprise, Arcane magic flared to life in Merlin's hand, quickly dancing and shifting as he mutter a spell of location, trying to spy on his fated enemy and determine where she had gone.

"Come on, show yourself…" Merlin muttered, peering into the sphere of magic, before he smiled, "There you are Morgan, now just what is it you are up to…"

There was a brilliant flash, and the orb of power dispersed in waves, even as Merlin shook his head, "It is exactly as I feared, she has gone immediately to seek out and awaken one of the Forgotten Ones, the servants of the Old Gods, in hopes that they will assist her in reeking vengeance on the world for its cruelties in her long life… "

"If we do all in our power to help you stopping Morgan, will you assist us in stopping Nobu'tan from releasing the Legion?" Albus asked pointedly, and the ancient bearded wizard thought for a long moment.

"I suppose it cannot be helped…" Merlin said after some time, "I cannot hope to stop both Morgan and whatever evil she has unleashed thus far without assistance, and you both… along with one other in this castle I believe, have the power to assist me in stopping her."

Albus knew that the man meant the magic of the Arcane, and quickly he sent a Patronus to summon Severus. "Then we shall go with you immediately to stop her." He said, rising to his feet.

If anything, the wizard who dwarfed Albus in both age and appearance seemed to brighten all the more, even as he arose as well and turned toward the door to the rest of the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that something about the mysterious Morgan le Faye was not right; possibly that there was no way in Azeroth or this place that she would ally with him or the Legion, but he still felt drawn to request some aid from her, even if it was just out of formality.

It took some doing, but the eyes of Kil'rogg sailing in every direction from Malfoy Manor eventually found her, their ability to traverse great distances rapidly aiding him in the search. But what he found the woman doing was another strange matter altogether; and something quite beyond the scope of what Nobu'tan had ever conceived in his mind.

Having therefore 'seen' the location through the eyes he had unleashed, Nobu'tan was easily able to open a portal to the location near to where Morgan had been found, a long stretch of deserted coastline on the western shores of Britain, overlooking the ocean and its thunderous waves.

"I had wondered if you would approach me again, little warlock," she said simply, all trace of humor removed from her regal voice as she gazed across the water, magic wafting off her in droves. It was similar to some of the magic Nobu'tan wielded, something out of the Void and part of shadows, but there wasn't a single trace of Fel magic in her spell, which already confused and worried the warlock.

"I came to learn if there was anything you would wish to impart upon me and my allies, in our quest that led to your freedom," Nobu'tan said, casually reminding her of the event should she be planning to turn hostile to him.

"No doubt of that, little one," she said again, but still did not turn toward him, "but there is nothing I can, or will, do to assist in the destruction of my masters upon this world by the Legion."

Nobu'tan was surprised, how did she already know so much. She laughed, raising her arms higher as her magic intensified, dimming the light of the sun around her to a far more shadowed hue. "Yes," she said, "I know of your masters, young one, but they pale in comparison to mine. You may command Fel, fire and some arts of shadow, but I am far beyond anything you could ever dream. Behold…" she added dramatically, and Nobu'tan looked out at the frothing water of the sea.

Was it his imagination, or were there things coming toward the beach just under the water? His suspicions were confirmed when, just down the coast from the pair of humans, a hideous creature erupted from the shallows, looking like some misshapen humanoid, only as a mound of flesh with tentacles sprouting from it on disgusting angles. One arm was nothing more than a writhing tendril itself, while the other sported a massive claw.

"The master sends his servants to me, to herald his arrival," Morgan cooed happily. "Soon, it will not matter what neither you nor the Legion wish to do here, as it will be too late. I will awaken the Ancient Ones, and they will grant me the power to turn this world to darkness."

It was only then that Nobu'tan understood the full depths of this woman's madness. While he himself would seek the end of this world, she would go a step beyond, and reshape it into the hideous image of the creature, and the many others like it that were already encroaching on the beach.

There was little else he could do. This madwoman had to be stopped at all costs, especially if he was to ever set foot on Azeroth again. Falling back to another position away from the now laughing witch, who clearly thought she had scared him away like a child, Nobu'tan hastily opened a new portal to the manor, before summoning Quzkol and sending him swiftly through to retrieve any prepared for battle.

It was critical that they stop this invasion before it could start. None would have this world but the demon lords of the Legion. Teg'Ramm and the ogres answered his call immediately, despite their lowered numbers, and for that Nobu'tan was greatly pleased. Those of the Order appeared as well, once again in the guise of the orc warlocks of old, although only those that had been channeling the portal into Avalon. Nobu'tan suspected the others had already departed to rest from the previous battle.

"Morgan le Faye has proved to be far too treacherous to be allowed to live," he said quickly, summoning his host of demonic minions. "She seeks to corrupt this world with ancient abominations from out of the sea, and we must stop her before whatever monstrosity she seeks is awoken."

Teg'Ramm was the first to voice his approval by shouting at the ogres, and the magi in particular, and they rushed toward the beachfront, their feet pounding divots into the sand as they charged to battle. Nobu'tan marveled at the stamina of the ogres, but followed as quickly as he could, the growing horde of demons from the warlocks around him increasing by the second.

The hideous abominations bellowed their challenges and surged up from the beach, swinging their tendrils like whips at the ogres, meeting their charge head on with a tremendous crash. Felhunters and Voidwalker flowed in around the massive creatures, harassing the monsters from the sea while swarms of imps fired volleys of fireballs from afar. Succubi appeared from behind the various creatures, dispelling their magical invisibility to lash whips around the flailing tendrils to incapacitate and limit their fighting ability for the clubs of the Ogres.

It was a beautiful symphony of death and destruction, and Nobu'tan observed the battle with a critical eye. There seemed to be no end to the waves of creatures from the ocean, and while the ogres were not limited, the hordes of demons that they could summon were indeed limitless as well. The perfect stalemate, unless something happened to come along to turn the tide one way or another.

Unfortunately, it seemed Morgan had the same idea, as the next wave of creatures contained a beast that towered over the others, with whip-like chords for some sort of hair and a pair of massive lobster claws. The thing was massive, and Nobu'tan knew that this fight would tax their strength, even with a limitless supply of fodder demons.

The cracks of apparition behind them seemed to just be icing on the cake. Nobu'tan turned, almost bored to see his favorite Headmaster gazing across the battlefield with dawning horror.

"Professor…" he drawled, "come to help us, or hinder us?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus hadn't the foggiest notion as to what was going on, first he was pulled from preparing for the second term of potions classes by the Headmaster's urgent summons, introduced to a man claiming to be the actual Merlin, and then quickly mass apparated to what seemed to be a battlefield between demons and some sea-born abominations, where Potter and his freaky attendants were maintaining a vigil and keeping a steady stream of their horrid magic pelting the creatures rising from the depths.

"Professor…" drawled Potter as he turned to glance at them, almost looking bored with their appearance, "here to help us, or hinder us?" he asked.

Severus took a moment to take in the strange garb that Potter had robed himself in. The black material was frayed at the sleeves and hem, whether through battle or intentionally was undetermined, but there seemed to be a distinct shimmer of enchanted thread running through the garment, which alluded to great magical potential.

The same could be said about the carved staff that the boy held, with runes in a language he couldn't read spiraling from base to top and gleaming with a delicate green energy. The tools and robes that his green-skinned guards wore were much of the same, albeit less adorned than their seeming leader.

"The monstrosities of Morgan's summon do take precedence over your demon lord's plans, warlock," Merlin answered, shocking all the green creatures, but not Potter himself.

"So it is an alliance of circumstance I suppose," the boy replied, turning back to the pitched battle, "Our current issue is that the tide is, literally, moving against us. Getting at Morgan will require us to push the line past that hulking beast."

"If you can punch a hole through their line, we can slip past and get at Morgan," Merlin said, taking charge. Severus glanced at Albus, who in turn was watching Potter closely, perhaps looking for any sign of possibly betrayal. Severus knew that the Headmaster was not going to trust a thing regarding the boy for a long time yet, as it was clear that his 'kidnapping' was a lie to throw off suspicion, but they lacked any time to try and pry answers from him or his allies.

"Understood," Potter stated, and his group of warlocks moved forward toward the battle, flames and dark magical curses flying out at the horrific monsters, pressing their way toward the hulking creature that was sending their demonic minions flying with its sweeping claws.

Meanwhile, the four mages maneuvered themselves to be as close to the line of creatures guarding whomever this Morgan person was as possible. Severus greatly wished that he had been included in the conversation of what was going on, but for what he saw, there was some extremely powerful-looking woman chanting and weaving magic to bring these beings from the depths of the sea, so that couldn't be good.

Then again, if they were supposed to be allied with Merlin himself, could they be saying that this woman was Morgan le Faye? Glancing at Albus for any hopes of confirmation of his suspicions, Severus was disappointed, as the old Headmaster seemed deep in thought himself.

A massive roar distracted Severus from his thoughts, and he turned to see a six foot tall humanoid demon flying through the air at the gargantuan beast, flames erupting from its darkened skin and slashing at the exposed area of the armored hide.

Many of the creatures turned to intervene and protect the massive beast, which was the same moment that Merlin signaled for them to push against Morgan. Merlin and Albus took point, firing barrages of arcane bolts at the remaining creatures that protected the presumed ancient witch, while Moody flanked along with Severus, the former hurling massive spheres of flame, while Severus himself pinpointed his bolts of ice and frost to the weak points and fleshy parts of the various abominations.

The first three fell quickly to the surprise attack, but the last one proved more agile, pulling shadowy magic of its own toward itself, before firing a deadly looking bolt of pure shadows, which arced high up and started to fall down upon them all.

"Scatter!" Merlin commanded, and they all dodged in several directions as the bolt impacted the ground, spewing sickly-looking purple and black ooze in a small pool where they had been gathered.

From the way the residue bubble and smoked Severus knew that if they had remained it would have been a grisly and most painful death by acidic burning. Conjuring a ball of icy magic, Severus took the initiative to hurl it toward the remaining creature that hindering their way to the woman.

Moody also joined in the surprise counterattack, streams of bright orange fire joining a few multicolored jets from his wand in striking the monstrosity in the strange, tentacle covered face, blasting it aside.

Morgan stopped her spell to turn toward them as Merlin and Albus approached. Severus kept one eye out for any more of the creatures trying to flank them, but otherwise watched the woman for any signs of aggression.

"Well, Merlin, you finally found your way out of Avalon and followed me…" the woman simpered sickeningly, almost aloof to their intentions.

"That's quite far enough Morgan," Merlin stated, brandishing his plain wooded staff at her, "you've threatened the safety of this world long enough, and it's back to Avalon that we must both go."

The woman laughed again, raising her arms as a wellspring of dark magic rose behind her, "You lack the power to stop me alone, my lord Merlin… And once the Great Dreamer awakens, I will be unstoppable."

Severus had no idea what the madwoman was referring to, but suddenly both Merlin and Albus attacked, launching arcane magic even as the woman leapt backwards toward the sea, vanishing behind a pillar of saltwater that rose up before her.

Out of the water surged another behemoth of tendrils and claws, intercepting the spells with its own body even as Morgan vanished in a whirl of robes and shadows.

For a moment it seemed as though Merlin was about to teleport himself after Morgan and leave Severus and the others there to fight on their own, but the creature seemed fixated on the ancient wizard solely, and the man had to leap back as the towering beast slammed its claws into the rocky outcropping where they had accosted Morgan.

At least Severus was indeed convinced that these ancient magic users were who they claimed, as Merlin conjured a jagged bolt of lightning, which zipped and zinged around the behemoth, causing it to roar in anger and pain. Severus readied his wand, and conjured a short spear of ice, preparing to fight this monster with everything he had, as it was a massive threat to the stability of their world.


	37. C36: The Hunt Begins

**Many thanks to those who reviewed. I am greatly pleased to know that many were surprised with the small twists that I threw into the last chapter, and hope that the fun continues as we pursue this plot point. More yet to come, naturally, but we shall be patient to receive it yes? Enjoy the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Six**

 **The Hunt Begins**

Lucius threw himself aside again as the beast's massive claws crashed into the sand where he and his son had been standing. Why they were suddenly near the front lines he didn't really understand, but there were so many of the sea-born freaks that it wasn't unrealistic that they broke through the front lines of ogres and demons.

Lord Nobu'tan had transformed, becoming a being of pure Felfire and shadows, leaping through the air at the largest of these summoning horrors, latching like a parasitic insect onto the beast's head and attacking it at melee range to distract it from supporting its much smaller allies.

The assorted demons were more than holding their own, but it seemed that the longer that Morgan le Faye, which was who Lucius supposed the woman standing on a cusp of rock channeling magic out to sea had to be, continued her spell there would be no end to the enemy reinforcements.

Luckily it seemed that Dumbledore and some of his allies, including Severus Snape, had arrived and were coordinating with them to stop the mad ancient witch while the Order of the Black Harvest led the charge against the abominations. It was an odd thing to be actually grateful of the old man's presence, but that wasn't something that the Pureblood wizard turned warlock could focus on at the moment.

Again and again Lucius and Draco, who had stayed by him, hurled their shadowy magic at the various creatures, infecting them with debilitating curses and spells that wore away at their hideous flesh with rot and decay, backed up by a fresh wave of demons that surged forward with their hideous war cries.

Soon however, the tide of enemies started to wane, and Lucius looked for some source of their change of battlefield conditions. Then he spotted it, even as the sea exploded upward over by the rocks where Dumbledore and his allies had rushed at Morgan, revealing another of the colossal beasts, and the ancient witch disappearing into thin air as she fled with a cackle.

Then there was a tremendous howling as the first beast fell with a crash, Nobu'tan landing with a spray of sea water and reverting to his human form, breathing heavily as the two headed ogres formed a phalanx around him, grasping their staves and facing off against the last remnant of the abominations with their new massive leader.

"Morgan has fled," he said as he was escorted back to Lucius and the other warlocks, even as their demons mopped up the remaining small creatures, "That last beast is the remaining one that she managed to awaken. We need to slay it and regroup so that we can be prepared for the next opportunity that she reveals herself. I doubt that this is the limit of what she has in mind to bring out of obscurity."

"Yes, Lord Nobu'tan," Yaxley replied, and together they started toward the cusp of rock, where the Light wizards were fighting desperately against the huge creature from the deep.

Crabbe and Goyle Sr. leapt forward, channeling bolts of chaotic magic to launch at the creature, buying time for the rest of them to get into position to back up the four wizards. It was interesting to think that for once in his life; Lucius would be on the same side as Albus Dumbledore regarding anything.

It was a long, grueling battle between the assembled magic users, ogre magi and the great abomination, but after dodging the swinging claws and whip-like tendrils they fell into a sort of pattern, quickly growing accustomed to the methods that the beast attempted to use to kill them all. And with that discovery, the ability to take advantage of its weak points became shockingly simple.

With a final flourished spell one of Dumbledore's lackeys, a younger man with a brown robe and beard, caused a spike of dark rock to fly out of the sand and impale the beast in the chest, slaying it and causing it to crash into the water with a final tremendous splash.

With their common foe defeated, it didn't take long for the warlocks and the wizards to separate into their respective groups and start suspiciously eyeing each other. Lucius knew that Nobu'tan had wanted Dumbledore to be as ignorant of their forces and abilities as possible, but with Morgan and her creatures interfering it simply wasn't a possibility.

Nothing was said between the two groups of magic users, each silently accepting the thanks of the other to their mutual success in this fight, and an unspoken agreement of ceasing aggressions until Morgan was stopped. Nobu'tan turned from them then, and started the process of opening a portal back to Malfoy Manor, making sure that it was impossible to tell where they were going via the view into the portal unless you were intimately familiar with the grounds, as Lucius and Draco were.

The wizards apparated away in the same time that Lucius walked through the portal back to his spacious manor grounds. There were significantly fewer ogres than before, but the four two-headed ones remained among those that had survived. Otherwise their numbers had barely been depleted. Macnair was sporting a few injuries, along with Crabbe and Nott Sr. but they were all minor at best and would heal easily with some well placed medical charms.

Lucius and Draco followed Nobu'tan however, shirking their illusions as soon as the portal was closed. "This situation complicates matters intensely," Nobu'tan was saying, traces of irritation in his voice, "not only does Morgan pose an actual threat, but we've been forced to reveal ourselves far more than I would have liked. We've lost much of our strength with the many dead ogres fighting both the Aurors and those creatures, and precious time is left before we need to start working on finding the last artifact and summoning the Legion."

"Do we even know where Morgan went to be able to follow her?" Draco asked astutely, and Lucius had to approve of the logic that his son was pursuing in persuading their leader to reason.

"Of course we don't, that would require effort on our part, and that even if she isn't trying to disguise her location, which after this blundered attempt to stop her is highly unlikely…" the warlock retorted.

"Then we have little that we need to concern ourselves with in regards to her, unless we have some sort of lead toward discovering her location. Let Dumbledore and his allies fuss over that, and we can use the precious time she has bought us to build up our forces a bit more." Draco continued, earning an approving smile from Lucius as he watched.

This friendship with Nobu'tan had made quite an impression on his son, and most of it was indeed for the boy's improvement, even notwithstanding the access to powerful dark magic that was all but hidden from the rest of the magical world. Although that presented another question of his own.

"Was it only me," Lucius started, "but did Morgan seem completely unsurprised by our use of Fel magic, as though she had seen it before?"

"She used Fel magic herself," Nobu'tan confirmed, turning from a map of Britain that he had picked up at some point, "and she also made specific mention of the Legion multiple times, so I suspect she made some sort of pact in ages past with them, and either failed or has attempted to betray them, which would make sense with those abominations that she's working with instead now. Personally," he added, "I'm more worried about Merlin assisting Dumbledore and the others, especially with all he probably knows regarding the Legion, as he fought Morgan before. We'll need to accelerate even further to keep ahead of the old man's moves now."

"There are still only a scant few leads on the Elder Wand, but I will devote every effort to locating it," Lucius affirmed. Nobu'tan had already returned to his map, probably plotting out the best location that Morgan could have fled to, or else some other logistics to recruit new allies for their faction.

Departing, Lucius made his way back outside, before apparating to the location of the one person that was still living, and willing to speak to him, regarding Gellert Grindlewald: Godric's Hollow.

It was always ironic to the Malfoy Lord, that Bathilda Bagshot, the illustrious author of the well worn History of Magic textbooks had lived so close to the most influential families of the modern era, the Potters and the Dumbledores, and was indeed a relative of the previous Dark Lord that had threatened all of Europe with his madness, and more so through his muggle puppet Hitler.

As a part muggle community, normally wizards were required to do what they could to blend in, but Lucius was far above that of an average magical citizen, and wouldn't be compromising his traditional values for the sanity of the pitiful muggles that infested this area. Naturally the muggles glances curiously as he walked down the paved road in his flowing robes, but the aura of superiority that Malfoys were trained in by birth was more than enough to keep any foolish questions from being asked by their filthy lips.

Lucius stopped momentarily to glance at the Potter's memorial, which appeared as some mundane statue to the muggles. Even though it was a dedication to the fall of his old master, and thoroughly in the field of supporting Dumbledore, Lucius was able to appreciate the monument now, as it had led to so much new potential in his life, and great things that might yet change the entire course of their world.

Moving on to one of the nondescript houses, albeit one that had muggle repelling charms on it to ward away any unwanted visitors, Lucius quickly approached and knocked on the door. After several long moments of shuffling from within, an elderly woman answered, "Lord Malfoy, what is it that I can help you with?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus understood that Merlin's priority was locating and taking Morgan back to Avalon, and preventing her strange sea-born masters from rising to consume the world and so forth, but it was still rather off putting for the ancient wizard to just keep disappearing as he went searching every ancient hiding place that the old witch had used eons ago.

In the meantime, Albus, Severus and Alastor were left to the problems that plagued them already, namely the return of a new term at Hogwarts in the midst of an effective cold war against Nobu'tan and his group of green-skinned warlocks.

At least Merlin had been more than willing to fill them in on the entirety of what the Burning Legion was, and the probable current objectives of Nobu'tan and his faction. Albus was personally horrified that he had potentially been unknowingly facilitating the entire destruction of his world by a rampaging horde of demons hell-bent on conquest and destruction.

The fact that Nobu'tan would happily give over his home planet to these demons however was even more disturbing, and Albus wondered what the boy had been promised in return. In the end he had been forced to accept one horrid truth. Harry Potter had clearly given into the temptation of Dark Magic a long time ago, and had been playing them all for fools with his attempts to blend in while he was at Hogwarts.

Albus could have hit himself with how foolish he had been at the start, so eager to look for only the good in the boy, for every connection to Lily and James that he refused to see what was right in front of him the entire time.

Thankfully Severus and Alastor had said nothing in regards to that, so they continued in their efforts to understand just what it was that Nobu'tan was up to in his goal of summoning the Legion. Merlin had already described what the boy would need, but Albus wondered what he had need of to make his massive portal actually function.

There would have to be a powerful location to house such a portal, which had already been made apparent, from what Merlin had told them before engaging Morgan the first time. However there were other key components that would be needed. Albus could speculate that if Nobu'tan already possessed or figured out the methods of opening portals, and that was guaranteed as he had made no secret of using them before now, he would still need an idea of where in the vast cosmos his other world was hidden, as well as means to channel the breach in space and time between the two points, which would require an enormous amount of power just to achieve, let alone maintain efficiently to allow a literally army to cross through.

The likelihood of such an endeavor actually working were astronomical, but if they boy was proceeding with the attempt; Albus figured that Nobu'tan had some idea exactly how to achieve what he desired.

If the boy was gathering artifacts to that end, it would make sense, as over the ages many relics of great power and diverse abilities had been made, lost and rediscovered. Albus could think of a few that would aid his desires to great effect, not the least of these being the Elder Wand that Albus himself possessed.

Whether the boy knew of the wand, and was seeking it however was not so apparent, but regardless Albus had to be cautious, as such a powerful tool in such evil hands was not wise, and even if Nobu'tan did not succeed in releasing the demon hordes upon their world, such a tool and weapon under his control would cause much harm in its own right.

The wand was made to fight, to be destructive, and cause pain. It took much from Albus in self control to not use it unless he needed to, and even more to only use it for what constructive ends he deemed needful. The Headmaster was aware that that lack of action made others believe him to be soft or unwilling to do all that he could to solve problems, but in reality he was doing more to protect the world by not acting than by allowing the power of the wand to potentially corrupt him into becoming much like Grindlewald before him, who's mad lust were magnified by the wand to his own destruction.

Albus was at least aware of his flaws, and the same age old desire that had once burned in his mind as when he was a teenager, when he and Gellert would plan to overthrow the Muggles and rule the world in peace and justice. Luckily Albus had awakened to their folly with the death of his sister, and would never again allow himself to dwell on those idle and altogether selfish thoughts.

To then have the wand in his hands, and the constant temptation to use it to achieve those old aims, had been a lifelong burden. But the tragedy of another taking up the wand for their own potentially evil ends, or have their good intentions corrupted by the power that the wand represented was far more sickening to him, hence why Albus had kept the wand safe for so many years.

If he was able to die peacefully while still the owner of the wand, hopefully it would lose all its power, and remove such a dangerous tool from threatening the world time and again every moment when the powerful Deathstick switched hands.

But if Nobu'tan knew of the wand, or had others seeking it for him, Albus knew it was a matter of time before they confronted each other once again over it. Many people knew that Gellert claimed to have the wand, or at the least lusted after it, if one knew the right people to ask. And Albus was more than certain that Lucius Malfoy, still an ally of anyone opposed to Albus himself, would have the foresight to ask those who would remember such old times.

"So," Severus said, returning Albus' mind to the present, "what are your plans once we do locate and hopefully intercept Potter before he summons the Legion?"

They were walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, only rarely bypassing a student that had remained for the holidays, but otherwise alone as Albus inspected the wards of the castle for the coming term. Thinking upon what Severus was suggesting, Albus was conflicted. He knew what the man wanted him to commit to and reply with, but for the life of him Albus couldn't bring himself to actually want to kill Lily and James' son.

"We will capture him," he said at last, ignoring the exasperated glare that Severus shot him as he said it, "We owe that much to the Potter's memory that we at least try to reform their son," he retorted, "placed in the right environment, devoid of his Fel magic, I feel that Nobu'tan would become quite manageable, and we can then take all the time we need to rehabilitate him as necessary."

Albus immediately thought of Gellert, who even still resided in Nurmengard, isolated from the rest of the Wizarding World, although Albus still visited him on a yearly basis to give him information, and a bit of company. Perhaps the tower prison could also be fitted to hold one as magically powerful as Nobu'tan, and block his connections to the Arcane and Fel magic.

"I hope you truly know what you're doing if you hold to that course of action, Headmaster…" Severus said, his voice icy and skepticism evident in every word. "But I believe there is great cause for just allowing the Ministry to try him as an adult and Dark Wizard…"

"We all make foolish decisions in our youth; surely you would agree that mercy is something that benefits in many cases, Severus…" Albus shot back, possibly more viciously than he intended, but the point was sent as the dour man recoiled as though struck. Yes, it had been a long time since Severus was reminded that he too was in a similar situation to what Nobu'tan was going through, albeit from the standpoint of a servant rather than the ringleader, so while not completely identical Albus felt that there was more in common between the two than either would willingly admit.

Severus had no response, but neither did he storm off, seemingly cowed into silence at the harsh truth that Albus had just used to smash his argument. Either that or he felt threatened that, if he tried to give Nobu'tan to the Aurors, that Albus would abandon his protects over him regarding his involvement with Voldemort and allow then to put him in Azkaban as well.

"We need to just focus on finding him first," Albus said after several minutes of silence, wherein they had traversed the entirety of the Charms corridor, and were steadily moving up through the castle, the ambient magic of the castle that they both could sense through the Arcane powers making this job of managing the wards so much easier to monitor. Normally there would be many stops to cast the same spell over and over to gauge the strength and recharge wards here and there, but now they could passively see the levels, and most were still quite fully charges, almost reacting to their presence as Mages, rather than simply wizards.

One of the few good things that resulted from Nobu'tan, Albus mused, and one of the major things that he felt earned leniency toward the boy. While ill intentions were his goal, he was neither deliberately nor outright malicious, nor did he go out of his way to attack or harm anyone, only fighting when others blocked him from his goal or from escape.

It was a much more refreshing sort of conflict than either of the previous Dark Lords that Albus had dealt with, and something that he was more than willing, if necessary, to put up with for a time longer as he worked toward a counter measure to Nobu'tan's desired endgame.

The Legion would not be nearly as forgiving if they were allowed entry to their world, and the loss of life would be staggering should that happen. Whether Nobu'tan knew this, or even cared, Albus did not know. But it was all the more reason to stop him before he could claim an item of great magical strength.

As he walked, Albus thought hard, wondering at the dangers of possibly allowing the boy to know that Albus held the Elder Wand. On the one hand, that would make Albus himself a target, but at the same time that would forcefully draw out the boy and his allies, making them come to him to confront Albus up front over the wand itself. In addition, it would probably present itself a better prize than searching for other, less known relics that may or may not even exist.

Combining this with the knowledge of the Triwizard Tournament that the Ministry was strong arming back the next year, it could easily present the perfect trap to set for the warlock. Making sure that Nobu'tan had to participate in the tournament, and thusly forcing him back to the walls of Hogwarts would do a great deal of rattling the boy's otherwise unchallenged freedom.

The presence of the wand would make it irresistible therefore, and Albus would formulate something to the effect of defeating the boy and his magic prowess through that. Sirius would also perhaps play a major role through this, creating a link to the boy of someone who knew him long before the catastrophe that took him from their world ever occurred.

Nodding to himself, Albus smiled. A plan was now in the works, and Albus could happily turn his attention to dealing with Morgan, and providing whatever support to Merlin he could.

"I believe the castle will be as ready as possible for the students to return this evening," he said at last, turning to Severus, "Is there anything else you wish to discuss, or would you like to go and attend to preparing for your classes?" Albus asked congenially, and Severus stalked away in response.

Albus knew that that would be the answer, but chose not to comment. Severus was still struggling with all the new information that had been dropped into their laps through the windfall that had been Merlin, and even Albus was finding difficulty wrapping his mind around a few of the details. Which was why he had so quickly chosen to focus on what he could control, locating the warlocks, and sent Alastor out to try again to hunt down Nobu'tan.

Through Sirius, they knew that the boy had not yet returned to Durmstrang, which meant that it was highly likely that he was in Malfoy Manor. But after the last complication at that residence, the Aurors had no authority or business approaching that place, and personally Albus was sure that they would find the same defenses, and more, waiting for them if they did return.

This was why Albus had sent Alastor to investigate the place alone. Between his enchanted eye and his gifts as a mage, the veteran Auror stood the best chance of scouting the area safely and determining if Nobu'tan was among those in the Manor. Even still, Albus didn't have high hopes of learning the boy's whereabouts so soon. It was more likely that he wouldn't see him again until Morgan was discovered once more.

Small blessing that it was, the warlocks were at least sided with them against the forgotten creatures of the 'Old Gods', as Merlin called them. Unfortunately, it seemed there was little to do but wait and train to keep their collective knowledge of the Arcane as sharp as possible. Albus had learned a few things from the last encounter, both from his own fighting and watching Merlin, who seemed to also wield pure magic arts along with something else, a more direct connection to the very elements of the planet around them that Albus lacked.

There was much room for improvement, even if Albus was somewhat anxious to be our actually accomplishing their goals against these two great threats, but for the first time in a long while, he was rather powerless to move against either of them as of yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that Lucius had a strong lead to the Elder Wand already; otherwise the man wouldn't be so confident about it when he returned from whatever errand he had gone to. However the man did not share his findings as of yet, perhaps wanting to follow it up and see if he could discover a bit more. The Pureblood was planning a trip to the area near Durmstrang, one of the quaint little villages that Nobu'tan hadn't bothered enough to care visiting.

Whatever the errand was, the young warlock allow his servant the anonymity that he desired, so long as the wand came to his possession once they discovered it, all would be well between the Order and the Legion.

Between the search and waiting for Merlin to rediscover Morgan, Nobu'tan himself was hard at work trying to find new allies for them to convert to bolster their forces. More ogres was always an option, but one would never know how large a particular clan could be until viewing them on the ground, and while his four ogre magi were powerful, a sufficiently large clan might resist them, so it was better to not risk it until they knew more.

Unfortunately that left a very slim margin of magical creatures that he could rightfully call to his aid. House elves were out of the question, the little servile beasts too enslaved to their own ideals and families to rise up against anything. Goblins were already at his call, but in the midst of a deal to wait until the Legion arrived. Centaurs wouldn't leave their forests, and were more concerned with the movement of planets and stars than the world around them.

Giants were an option, but they were even less subtle than the ogres, and would be significantly more difficult to persuade through bouts of demonic magic. Being four or more times the size of the mage in question tended to give one the air of superiority, and they tended to hate all magic users with a passion.

There was always the option as well to summon more powerful demons, or even demon lords, and attempt to persuade or subdue them, but that was even more dangerous than parlaying with giants. You would never know the personality of higher ranking Legion warriors until after you summoned them, and mortals were always at the top of their lists of prey.

There wasn't much else in the regions of Britain or near about that was sentient enough for his use, although, when he checked the tomes in Lucius library again about near human magical creatures, one did strike him as a strong possibility: the Veela.

Native to the continental areas of Europe, more so toward the western portions, which worked for him just well, the Veela were said to prioritize fire magic and wind as a natural part of the avian heritage. They could also be deadly beautiful, and possessed great strategic and cunning minds.

Supposedly the largest colony of these was located in the middle of France, hidden away from poachers and muggles that could easily fall to their allure. Grinning to himself, Nobu'tan prepared for the journey. He would need speed over control or power, so only summoning Teg'Ramm to himself as extra protection, Nobu'tan opened a portal to Knockturn Alley, the southernmost place that he knew a location for. Once stepping through, and smirking as the assembled crowds of haggard and eerie shoppers leapt back at the sight of the ogre mage, Nobu'tan conjured a half dozen eyes of Kil'rogg, sending them out to the east and south, seeking a place close to the waters of the Channel for them to open a portal to.

If Lucius wasn't already gone on his trip, it would have been simpler to have the man take them to magical Paris and work outward from there, but it would not be helped at the moment.

Several more jumps to carefully selected areas that were secluded enough to disguise the bulk of his bodyguard, and Nobu'tan had them as a sea port, more specifically in the shadowy recessed under a pier, while Nobu'tan threw more eyes across the water, looking for a suitable place to cross via magic.

It was somewhat magically taxing, but a good exercise in how quickly Nobu'tan could travel if he so desired. Nowhere near the strength of an Archmage, but quite effective nonetheless. An abandoned building on the far side of the ring of water surrounding Britain was their next stop, and Nobu'tan stopped for a short rest, casually tapping into the Arcane to conjure some highly sugar enriched food. It was still quite unappealing to his pallet, but served to replenish his magical energy extremely quickly, so that they could move on before being discovered.

Three more portals, and scouting sessions via eyes of Kil'rogg, and they were finally in the rough location that was mentioned by the book in Lucius' library. Finally, in that place, Nobu'tan released the largest number of eyes yet, spreading them out in all directions, searching for even the smallest scrap of magic. He had to completely stop and sit upon the stone floor of the cave that they had halted in, as his vision was completely removed from his body as he scanned the surroundings from eye after eye, seeking desperately for the community he needed to find.

It didn't take surprisingly long for him to zero in on their location. The floating eyes had a knack for seeking out magic, and he quickly had views of the quaint little community, surprisingly muggle aside from the obvious magical nature. It seemed that those on the continent were far more integrated into the nonmagical world than Britain.

Nobu'tan stood, a smile forming on his face. There was a taste of disquiet in the air of that place, along with the magic of fire. Reaching through space and time, he wrenched his last portal needed to arrive at their destination, happily stepping through the middle of the community, which sported a typical magical marketplace, just as alive and busy as Diagon was.

The crowd, mostly the female Veela, all stopped at the sudden influx of his power and darkness, that and probably the imposing stature of Teg'Ramm at his back. Nobu'tan knew what he must do to win over these people, as Gul'dan had favored explaining to him many times exactly how he had won power over the Horde, using a combination of persuasion, manipulation and the temptation of power through the blood of demons.

Naturally, he needed their good graces before proposing such a drastic concept as partaking in the blood of demons, but still, long reaching goals…

Walking casually through the quaint marketplace, the ogre mage at his back, Nobu'tan tried to appear casually interested in the various foodstuffs and other benign items that the village was trading among themselves, waiting for someone to work up the courage to address him and ask the burning question that he could feel on their minds.

Eventually, a rather self important woman appeared, clearly the leader of this community of magical creatures, and looked at his haughtily, "Can we help you, young sir?" she asked, the French accent only slightly thickening her words. It was amusing that they presumed that Nobu'tan spoke only English, but rather irrelevant.

"No, I am perfectly fine myself," Nobu'tan replied casually, "However I would ask you if there is anything that you could use of me?"

He knew that they would be suspicious of him with this approach, but at the same time Nobu'tan had a hunch that the idea of a human helping them was so foreign that they'd be intrigued by the concept enough to allow him into their confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius was getting bored. He had been watching Durmstrang for several weeks now and there had been absolutely no sign of his godson. Albus had already mentioned that they had encountered Harry again back in Britain, but that Sirius needed to remain just in case he returned to the school.

Harry had not thus far, and with the winter weather steadily lightening up, or the equivalent this far north where the snow was just slightly less thick than before, Sirius was getting antsy to move on or return to Britain.

In fact, walking through a village near the school, Sirius was getting ready to just leave and go back to Hogwarts, when he spotted a man that he had hoped to never see again. Lucius Malfoy couldn't help but look out of place in any environment, his rich acromantula silk robes shimmering off the reflected light from the snow, even while all the people around him in this village, Sirius included, had dull thick clothing that retained heat well but also wasn't overwhelmingly fashionable.

Wondering what the blonde Death Eater was up to this far from their home island, Sirius shifted into his animagus form and followed Lucius, listening carefully as the man inquired of several residents as to the location of a man by the name of Gregorovitch. Even Sirius knew him as a wandmaker, having gotten a new wand for himself from the rather downcast man. What the pompous pureblood wanted with the foreign wandmaker Sirius did not discover, and Lucius went directly to the shop that the villagers had indicated.

Sirius wouldn't be able to follow him effectively once Lucius entered the shop, but he was able to huddle against the side of the building, near a partially dysfunctional window that was cracked open, and try to listen in on what was going on inside.

Sirius' grasp on the native language was shaky at best, he himself having to resort to pointing and other hand gestures when he bought his wand from the man, but apparently Lucius did not have the same problem, as the pair of men started conversing in some rapid language to the point where Sirius had no chance of following.

Apparently, even these people on the continent couldn't stand Malfoys, as the conversation started to become heated very quickly, almost to the point of Gregorovitch shouting at Lucius, but the odd thing was, around a half hour later, the pureblood left the shop again with a large smirk in place on his cold and calculating face.

That was not a good sign as far as Sirius was concerned. Whatever Lucius was happy about, usually meant bad things for everyone else. When the man apparated away at last, Sirius changed back into his normal form, and quickly shot a Patronus messenger to Albus, informing him of what had occurred, and decided that, if Lucius had taken an interest in the last area that they had known Harry to be, then maybe he could stick around a little longer, just in case something was going to go down here once Harry returned.

Turn on his heel; Sirius bypassed the front of the shop on his way back to his post, glancing casually at the sign that had been carved on the front of Gregorovitch's door, that of a wand that had always struck Sirius as familiar somehow. But he had never been able to place where he had seen a wand like the one displayed on the door, with three knot-like bulbs along the length, and made from a wood that Sirius did not recognize on sight, which was rare for a pureblood to not know.

Shaking the silly thoughts away, Sirius refocused on the task at hand, boring thought it might have been to sit and watch a school from afar for the safety of his godson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco sighed to himself the moment he set foot on the Hogwarts express, knowing that he and the other young warlocks had just willingly signed their way out of any of the interesting or important conflicts that their Order was going to engage in for the rest of the term. The likelihood of Dumbledore missing them, or even allowing them to go home to be of use to Nobu'tan was next to zero, and even if he did that would be worse, as he would then learn that they were all allied with him and knew his power.

Secrecy was their best weapon, as even if Dumbledore suspected that they knew the powers of a warlock, and no doubt the man that Nobu'tan had declared was Merlin had told the Headmaster everything there was to know, he could still do nothing without solid proof. And Slytherins were nothing if they weren't secretive.

They would lie low, much as they had the previous year with the Chamber of Secrets, and grow in power, making sure that once they had opportunity they could strike the heaviest blow possible for their cause.

Theodore, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and a few of the others that had been recruited joined Draco in his compartment for the train ride. It was a rather quiet affair, they all realizing the same ultimatum that was set in effect as soon as they entered the Hogwarts grounds. This was the land of Mages, where the Arcane was foremost. The powers of the Fel had to be hidden perfectly, or they could all face terrible repercussions, not only from Dumbledore, but Nobu'tan as well.

Granger walked by just after the train pulled away from the London station, with her entourage, and smiled at them through the compartment window, but made no move to enter. That was the second part of their problem, the rivalry with Granger's mages. Draco supposed that it wouldn't be long before their groups were finally aware of the full capabilities of the other, possibly through the intervention of Dumbledore himself, and then hard questions would be asked.

Fighting between their groups wouldn't be immediate, but it would happen eventually, and Draco knew that the Order of the Black Harvest was ready, mostly. There were plenty of lesser warlocks that were still learning the ropes, those that had been recruited by them in school but had yet actually met Lord Nobu'tan aside from his persona of the Ravenclaw Harry Potter.

The ride passed on in near silence, most of the people in Draco's compartment either resting or reading to themselves. Crabbe and Goyle played a quiet game, which still ended up as the loudest thing in the compartment, so Draco could easily hear anything that took place out in the corridor of the train, children and other students running up and down, being chased by prefects and whatever else.

Thinking to himself, it was extremely strange how he had changed in the course of two and a half years, after meeting the boy that turned out to be the most powerful warlock in their world. Before then he would have been just as blissfully ignorant as those children running the halls, but instead he had had his eyes forcefully opened to the true reality of their world, and its desperate struggle to hang onto life itself with the approaching advent of the demonic Legion that sought to scorch their world to a crisp.

And gazing across the room, he knew that the story was the same for each and every member of the Order here, as they were still so very young, and now had very adult issues and problems ahead of them. Studying and learning the wizard magic had become secondary, more of a facade to make sure that they weren't discovered rather than their primary purpose in life, which in turn grew steadily more complicated as Nobu'tan strove ever closer to his goal.

Even with all that they knew, Draco wondered how the others in this compartment felt about the death of their world, if most of them even knew of it in the first place, and the fact that they were planning to leave to a fresh, green world with magic rife in every square foot.

The sky grew darker as Draco thought, eventually mustering the energy with the others to purchase some food from the plump witch and her trolley, but even in eating they were silent, contemplating the next moves that they needed to take.

Their most junior members needed the most attention, and Draco felt that the time for recruiting more people had passed, as now they were being hunted, and right under the enemies crooked nose they had little room to move unseen, and therefore had to devote every ounce of energy to their demonic studies, and making sure that it remained a secret. There was no time to make sure that new entries were trustworthy to not go straight to Professor Snape with their activities, and through the traitorous man to Dumbledore himself.

At least, Draco thought as they finally pulled into the station at Hogsmeade, that he would be able to serve as the lookout for Nobu'tan, keeping an eye on Dumbledore's movements and if he left the school for any reason, as they all had been taught how to summon the green floating eye scouts, coined after some orc warlord named Kil'rogg, and the warlocks could communicate message through them to a specific recipient, which them voided the need for owls and potential captures of their missives.

Gathering his energy, and taking a deep breath, Draco took his trunk and departed the train, trudging across the lawns to the carriages, which would bring them deep into the bowels of Dumbledore's sphere of influence and control, but there were plans now set in motion, and Draco would make sure that the old man learned nothing from them, even if he dispensed with legality or propriety and had them all interrogated on the spot. Those who knew anything wouldn't talk, and the others only knew of their current activities at the school, and therefore couldn't betray anything vital to them.

Even still, while Moody would likely be willing to torture children for information, Draco knew that the Headmaster hadn't the heart to do something as cruel and efficient as force them all to speak. He would rather draw out the information subtly, probably using Snape as his chief tool, but they were already aware that their head of house was not to be trusted, which only left them to work towards a plan for whatever else the old man had in mind to pry information out of them.


	38. C37: Knowledge, Power and Sacrifice

**Happy Halloween! many thanks to those who continue to leave such thoughtful and inspiring reviews. I am still so thoroughly surprised how well this story has taken over as the most popular of anything I have written, but I love it nonetheless! Please keep up the wonderful support as we proceed into the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Seven**

 **Knowledge, Power and Sacrifice**

Alastor was concerned that Albus was making a terrible mistake in siding with the warlocks for any reason, even in facing something as monstrous and horrific as these supposed 'Old Gods.' Nevertheless, for the opportunity to get Merlin's aid in defeating the insane boy and locking up the rest of the Death Eaters which Moody still highly suspected had joined forces with Potter, he would play nice and continue to closely observe the movements of these warlocks when they interacted with Albus and Merlin, for the inevitable betrayal that he felt was going to result of this union.

However, that didn't mean he had to allow them to wander free when they were apart, hence why he was back at the Ministry after scouting out Malfoy Manor, trying to convince Amelia Bones of the pressing need to reinvestigate the former Death Eaters for any further criminal activities. He had sensed a great deal of magical energy, of many varying types at the pureblood home, and regardless of the current ban from the office of the Minister for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to get involved with the man, he was going to bring his opinion to the only person in the entire Ministry that he felt would at least agree, regardless of whether she could do anything about it.

"For the last time Alastor, it is not without our rights as law enforcement to go about prying into people's lives, as much as you and I both disagree," the woman said stubbornly, glaring at the gnarled old Auror through her monocle. Alastor knew Amelia probably better than anyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he had already expected his response, but he still had to make the attempt.

"I understand how we're bound by the laws of our country, Amelia," he stated gruffly, "but mark my words, there will be a great deal of trouble if this business is not rooted out quickly, and I daresay that I know for a near fact that those old followers of the Voldemort are deeply involved. Once part of the Dark Arts, always part of it, you know how the old saying goes."

Amelia flinched as if struck at the sound of the name, but more out of anger than fear, which was one of the things that Alastor greatly respected the woman for. He himself had only started speaking the name again once he learned of the greater threat to their world that existed just outside the confines of space, the Burning Legion.

"I do," Amelia confirmed, "but my hands are still bound by anything the Minister deems within his rights to order, and we are to leave those _acquitted_ ," she stressed the word, as though swallowing something bitter, "men alone to their private lives of luxury and political position."

Alastor could see that he was steadily rushing onto thinner and thinner ice with his former boss by continuing to push the matter, and therefore he quickly switched topics. "Aright then, we leave them alone for now, but what about Peter Pettigrew? Has the Minister done anything about trying him for the allegations brought up from Albus, Snape and myself?"

Amelia ground her teeth together, looking as though she had been slapped across the face and was forced to smile about it, "the Minister is dragging his feet regarding that matter, hoping that we will catch Black before it comes to acknowledging that we have the man in custody and he can just sweep all this nonsense under the rug."

She paused, adjusting some paperwork on her desk, before continuing to speak, "Until then, or whenever the man decides to change his mind, we have to keep the other one who _may_ be Pettigrew in a minimum security holding cell," Alastor was about to explode into a rage at those words, but Amelia's hand shot up to stop him, and she continued quickly, "but I make sure that at least two Aurors are watching him at all times, just so he doesn't have much of a chance of escaping even if he uses his little trick as you so clearly pointed out he was capable of. As it stands, I fear it's only a matter of time before he escapes or is simply released for a _lack of evidence_."

The anger radiated off the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in waves, and Alastor knew that passionate fire all too well. Amelia Bones had lost most of her family to the terrorist attacks of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and she most among anyone wanted to prosecute any suspected Death Eaters immediately, but Fudge was incompetent, and wanted more than anything to spare his good image, even from perceived attacks that rightly couldn't be attributed to him. A pure politician if there ever was one.

"I see," Alastor said diplomatically, reigning in his own temper and rising from the hardback chair he had been sitting in for the near hour of his private meeting with his old employer, "Well you keep giving the both of them hell until they wake up to the situation, and I'll continue to work with Albus to prepare against any more future threats."

Amelia's face softened, but only slightly, "What's the old man planning this time?" she asked, in part curious and in part worried. Amelia knew for a fact, as did Alastor, that if Fudge decided that Albus was in any way a threat to him, that he would without hesitation sick Amelia and her Aurors against them, even though they knew the threats that Albus was helping them against, and they would have little choice for the sake of their own careers and lives but to do as they were told.

"Oh, the usual," Alastor said dismissively, knowing that keeping Amelia in the dark as to their specific actions was what she wanted, "fighting the dark forces, saving the world, that sort of thing."

"Hmph," she said, shuffling some of the piles of papers on her desk, "at least someone is doing something productive with their retirement."

Alastor smirked as he left. From Amelia Bones, that alone was high praise indeed.

Still, it gave Alastor motivation to do more, if he could, to prove that there was a need to stop these fancy nobles that were clearly still servants of the Dark Arts and bring them to justice. They already had Sirius report back to Albus that he spotted Lucius Malfoy on the continent, looking into foreign wand makers near to Durmstrang of all things, but beyond that they had little leads as to what any of them were up to.

Albus had recalled Sirius back to Hogwarts nonetheless, worried that he might have been seen and recognized, and besides that there had been so sign of Potter in over a month there, which probably meant that the boy was elsewhere or securely hidden from their sight. Alastor's job was to teach the young scion of the House of Black the arts of a Mage, and hopefully increase their numbers before Morgan tried something else, forcing them all back together to fend of whatever madness she sought to bring back to light on their world.

The horrors that they had fought already were shown to Sirius, to impress the gravity of the situation, but the connection to his Godson were not yet made fully known to him, a notion that Alastor did not agree with, but Albus stated flatly that Sirius was not to be told for his own mental stability. He was still just fresh out of Azkaban after all, and learning that his best friend's son had taken up the mantle of the Dark Arts might just be the last straw that mentally broke him completely.

Apparating back to just outside Hogsmeade, as Sirius would not be able to adequately hide in the castle with all the children around for their classes, Alastor made his way toward the slops of the mountain range that encompassed the area. There was a cave here that was hidden from most eyes, mundane or magical, that Albus and Alastor had prepared as a sort of refuge for Sirius to stay in. It had most of the common furnishings that one could want, barring the capabilities to make his own food, but that couldn't have been helped without even more work that they lacked the time to do.

Sirius was there when Alastor arrived, looking extremely bored and on edge, the usual state of affairs for the man at present. He spun around and raised his wand as Alastor stomped in, but relaxed when he spotted who it was. "Oh, Moody, good, I was growing worried when you were a few minutes late."

"I'm never late," Alastor said, "Your clock is three minutes twenty-six seconds too fast."

Sirius laughed; a nervous sound that was in no way familiar to the booming bark that it used to be before the fated Halloween night. Alastor didn't comment, and he proceeded to set out the small package of food that he was also delivering to Sirius to keep him out of trouble, for the most part.

Both he and Albus were thoroughly aware that Sirius would not function being cooped up in this cave day in and day out, and did sneak around in his animagus form all the time for fresh air and a bit of excitement, but so long as he was careful there was no need to rebuke him regarding it, so they decided to let the prankster have his fun. The only concern was the proximity of the Dementors that Fudge had still outright refused to recall to Azkaban.

"Nevertheless," Alastor said after Sirius started tearing into the food, prepared by the Hogwarts elves and aided by nutrient potions that Snape had grudgingly supplied, not that Sirius was told about them, "Are you prepared for another lesson in Arcane Magic?"

"I still don't understand," Sirius tried to say between mouthfuls, "why we need to learn all this extra magic for? Voldemort is gone, and whatever madness that you and Dumbledore have been fighting can't be all that bad right?"

"You've been locked in Azkaban up until this previous summer Sirius, there is a lot that you are unaware of as of yet," Alastor replied, using his one little jab at Albus' lack of honesty, "there has been several major changes as of late, and these new foes which threaten not only the magical world, but much, much more, use powers that we are only beginning to understand. Merlin has returned, Sirius," he added, trying to emphasis the severity of the situation, "and has told us of the power of this… Burning Legion… and their demonic masters who exist well beyond the scope of our skies."

"Yeah, yeah I understand all of that," Sirius said, getting slightly frustrated, "I just don't get why I had to abandon my search for Harry to start preparing for a war that I'd rather take my godson far away from."

Alastor hesitated, which even Sirius picked up on, but the scarred Auror wondered how much he was allowed to say, "Harry Potter is… like his father would be, in the thick of all this mess. The creatures that had kidnapped him have been seen multiple times, consorting with these demons and we suspect they work toward bringing the Legion to our world under any means necessary."

Sirius coughed, choking on some fire whiskey he had been drinking. Sputtering as he tried to get air into his lungs, he turned sharply and looked at Alastor wildly, "Harry is mixed up with these demon cultists? Why didn't Albus say that in the first place, if I need this magic to fight them and save my godson, I'll be the best damn mage you have." He said, the inner fire that Alastor remembered from the old days returning in an explosion of desperation. Setting the bottle aside, Sirius stood, knocking his chair back in his haste, "Let's go, right now, we've not a moment to lose if it means saving my godson."

Alastor wondered which of them was going to regret the eagerness of Sirius Black in these lessons now, but obliged, moving the objects of the room aside with a wave of his wand, before watching as the former prisoner conjured flames as he had been taught previously, albeit with far more dedication and concentration than he had ever expressed before.

Cautiously warding the area around them, Alastor began, weaving the techniques of flame around them instructionally, showing more than telling Sirius how to accomplish each feat of pyromancy. The man had taken to it naturally before, and now he consumed every scrap of knowledge like his animagus form would water, nearly competing with Alastor on every concept he could handle.

Alastor already knew that it was much the same with each of them, knowing that their world was threatened was a very good motivator toward improving their skills, and already Albus had reached a powerful epiphany, understanding knowledge of how to create temporary portals to various locations he had previously been, giving him unique insight on how Potter might plan to bring the Legion to their world.

Merlin helped occasionally, but for the most part he was watching for signs of Morgan le Faye to make her move, so they were more or less still left to their own cleverness to unlock mysteries of this new power source.

But watching someone like Sirius Black pick up this sort of magic with what appeared to be great ease; Alastor felt a smattering of confidence that they just might make it out of this bleak situation alive, and even better, with their world intact.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione could sense changes in the air from day to day, through the power of the Arcane. Powerful forces were moving in the world, and it seemed as though the source of her power, the Leylines, actually quivered in fear at the prospects of their awakening. She did not understand all that it meant, but those were the sensations that she felt whenever she dwelled on the thoughts she sometimes randomly was given.

A few of their Professors, the ones that Hermione knew possessed the knowledge of the Arcane, along with the old Auror, Moody, seemed increasingly on edge as well, hurrying along with their daily tasks as though there was something drastically more important for them to be doing.

Hermione did not like being left out of the loop about something this important, which was why she was here, walking up to the gargoyle that hid the secret staircase up to the Headmaster's office, so that she could ask him what the dreadful matter was and set her curiosity to rest.

Only, she was at a loss for what the current password that gained access might actually be. Standing in front of the uncaring hunk of stone for several moments, she tried in vain to riddle out what the secret phrase might be, before the statue moved of its own accord, making way as voices started to be hearable from up the stairs hidden behind it.

Hermione felt a moment of surprise, and the sudden urge to hide herself, but stood her ground, knowing that there was nothing that she ought to be afraid of here at Hogwarts, or at least nothing to fear coming down from the Headmaster's office.

"So you are sure that you searched all of Morgan's previous hiding places and secret strongholds?" Professor Dumbledore was saying, as he and a much younger man appearance around the spiral stairs, descending down to the same level as the corridor on which Hermione stood.

The young man shook his head, lightly tossing the brown beard he sported as he replied, "Yes, most of them were destroyed by the passage of time, and what few others that were intact remain undisturbed. She has gone to ground somewhere, or had some secret place that I was unaware of, but I will find her in the end, don't worry about that Albus. Morgan will not escape me again."

Hermione knew it wasn't her place to listen in on a private conversation, but she was immensely curious at the powerful swell of Arcane Magic that encircled the stranger, far more powerful than herself, or even Professor Dumbledore, who she had recognized had surpassed her already in the arts.

"Well, keep us all informed of the moment she is located, so we can come help prevent her from unleashing… Ah, Miss Granger…" Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting their conversation to shift attention to her.

The stranger turned, his eyes dancing with amusement at seeing her, and somehow Hermione knew that this man was well aware of her potential with the Arcane. "I was unaware that you were training others, especially children, with the power Albus…" he said jovially, as though the notion actually pleased him.

"Alas, no, Miss Granger has done quite a bit of her own self study, and taught many of her classmates the arts of the Arcane. It is from her that I and my associates learned of its potential, and have in turn helped her where our knowledge exceeded her own." The Headmaster replied truthfully.

"I see," the unknown man replied, eyes still twinkling delightedly, "Still, it is good to see that the Arcane Order has not fallen away completely in the time I have been away from the world. Dark though the times may yet be, hope remains so long as the Order of Mages endures."

"The Order of Mages?" Hermione asked curiously, and the man smiled wider still.

"You mean to say that this development of Arcane magic is a new rediscovery. All the better then," the man said, eyes sparkling with restrained excitement, "as it is high past time that the Order be reformed. Yes, dear child you have stumbled upon a great secret, that the very order of the Wardens of Avalon had for long ages been powerful Magi, guarding the secret lands from outside perversion. Although I believe our current catastrophe could have been averted if any of the old orders had survived, but such was not to be. If I am to imprison Morgan le Faye once more in the sacred realm, I will need those I can trust to secure the portal from this side and keep it secret from the eyes of the world, for their own safety."

Something clicked in Hermione's mind as she heard the name of the ancient witch and rival of the most famous wizard to ever live. "You are Merlin, also known as the Guardian of Avalon…" she said, recounting the brief mentions of him that older tomes had recorded, including the strange title that seemed to fit along with the Order of which he had spoken.

"Yes, although the title of Guardian was passed through many others long before I held it," Merlin replied, seeming to be absolutely delighted that she had so quickly guessed the secret of his identity, "I would keep this one close Albus, her potential is vast, and I can see glimpses that she will be of great importance in the future. The Spirits of the Earth are rarely wrong on these matters." He added, glancing back to Professor Dumbledore momentarily.

"I must take my leave, young Mage," the man continued, patting her gently on the shoulder as he passed by her, "but I wish you well on your journey to inherit all the power that you are able to in this life, and I warn you to beware of the temptations of the Fel. Demonic magic seems alluring to the untrained, but the wise and prudent will tell you that it is a vicious trap meant to lull the weak into a false sense of control, and there consume them for the demons of the Burning Legion to dominate."

Hermione hadn't a clue what Merlin was speaking about, but he left in a great hurry afterward, leaving her and the Headmaster alone. "Well, Miss Granger, I suppose that you know have a great deal more questions than what originally brought you to my office…" Professor Dumbledore said astutely, and Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Well, I have some free time before I must return to work managing the school, so I can easily see what answers I can give, in the briefest of explanations if possible." he allowed, gesturing for her to go ahead of him back onto the staircase, which had not as of yet been covered by the gargoyle that guarded it.

Hermione obeyed, riding the moving staircase to the top, and waiting for the Headmaster to push open the simple wooden door that led to his office. "Please, have a seat. Care for a lemon drop?" he said, and Hermione gratefully took one, relishing the momentary remembrance of the Muggle World, and the novelty of it.

"So," Dumbledore said after a moment, "Where shall we begin?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm wasn't completely certain what to expect of these strange avian women whose village he and his master had entered, but if Lord Nobu'tan saw a use for them, than the ogre mage wouldn't disagree with him. Many things about the world were still so new to him, and thus far relying on the young warlock's judgment was the safest solution to most problems that caused both of the ogre's heads to throb in pain.

Intelligent though he was, for an ogre, there were many things he yet couldn't comprehend, so relatively soon after his transformation, but he was learning quickly, and could see somewhat the advantage of such powerful magical creatures that these women represented, but the why or the how of swaying them to the purposes of the Legion were still in question.

The women were already extremely caution and distrustful of either of them, which in the long run was the wisest course of action, with what Teg'Ramm knew that either he or his master were capable of, and only had them do the most basic of menial tasks to prove that they meant no harm to their community.

It was dull work, collecting rarer food for them that normally would be dangerous or problematic for the avian women, or disposing of this or that large predator that had grown to being a dangerous pest to them, but still easily done for the powerfully built, two-headed creature.

Meanwhile, Lord Nobu'tan was preparing something to offer the bird-like women, some ritual that seemed to be causing a greenish liquid to pour from some place unknown, through a powerful, yet small, fel portal into a rough carved basin, etched with runes of preservation and glowing malevolently.

Those few people from the village that bothered to come far enough out near the large tent that the pair of them dwelled in as they visited often glanced nervously at the basin, feeling the chill in the air that the Fel magic produced. Teg'Ramm was not privy to what the leader of the community had discussed with his master, the conversation having taken place in private, but it seemed to have amounted to the pair of them proving that their promises were all they were worth before the Veela creatures agreed to any sort of concessions regarding aiding the Black Harvest.

Which was why the ogre mage did everything he could to be helpful to his master, which included garnering favor with the community through the dull tasks that they had available for them to perform.

At last, somewhere close to two or three weeks after they arrived, on an extremely dark night, Nobu'tan summoned the entirety of the village to the place where the basin stood, glowing in the darkness with several torches around it, casting green shadows in all directions.

From somewhere within his robes, Nobu'tan produced a strange, horn-carved cup, etched with more glowing runs and sinisterly shaped, unlike anything from the natural world that Teg'Ramm had experienced.

Dipping the goblet deeply into the yellow-green liquid, Nobu'tan addressed the crowd, holding it aloft. "This is the gift I promised your people, the power to throw off the oppression wizards have forced over you. Drink from this Cup of Unity, a Chalice of Rebirth, and you will be given strength enough to withstand anything that might be thrown against you…"

The leader of the clan of bird-like woman stepped forward, eyeing the sickening looking liquid with a calculating gaze, "and what must we give in return for this gift…" she asked quietly, where only Teg'Ramm, who was nearest to Nobu'tan, could hear.

Nobu'tan looked up from under his hood, eyes gleaming red with the powers of the Fel, "…everything…" he breathed, and the ogre suppressed a shudder at the malevolent seduction that emerged from the mouth of his master. The leader sniffed once more, and accepted the cup from the warlock's grasp, lifting it high for her people to see, before drinking deeply from it.

Nobu'tan stepped forward and retrieved the cup quickly, as the woman staggered from whatever it was that she just consumed, before she transformed immediately to her true, avian form. But the changes didn't stop there. Where the plumage was normally shadows of brown and tawny, now the feathers started to writhe and darken to midnight blacks and sickening Fel greens. The beak and talons grew razor-like and cruel, and the flames that cropped up were the same Fel green that Nobu'tan himself employed in combat.

The worst part was the woman's eyes, going from their majestic gold to a deep crimson as the Fel powers took control. Teg'Ramm realized with a start what it was that the basin and cup contained. Demon Blood... A powerful and direct source of Fel Magic, it alone could inspire such a rapid change of any being.

The woman in bird form rose to her feet, shrieking with triumph and hatred, calling to her flock to come forward, and taking the goblet once more after Nobu'tan refilled it, started to pass it around to her fellows, which each in turn suffered the same transformation while the pair of warlocks looked on in satisfaction.

Their numbers had just increased, and these Fel-touched Veela would be the source of much added strength, since the ogre clan had been significantly weakened. Teg'Ramm understood that he was a weak chieftain of that clan for the moment, but he would rebuild them stronger than ever with time and practice. Perhaps he would receive leave from his master to seek out other clans to enslave and force to join them, and then the process of creating more ogre magi could start once again.

Soon the entire village-worth of women were transformed, screeching to the moonless sky in a riotous madness that brokered no chances of escape for their prey, and Nobu'tan took the basin and cup away, back into their tent and secured them under powerful Fel enchantments, just in case any of the Veela got ideas. Once the warlock returned, he wandered off toward the surrounding dark hills, and Teg'Ramm dutifully followed, just in case his master encountered something that threatened him.

It didn't take terribly long for them to arrive at the destination that Nobu'tan was clearly heading for, a crag between the foothills of a large mountain range, perfectly hidden from most prying eyes unless they came to this place precisely, and Nobu'tan stopped just outside the rocky trench caused by the geographical formation.

"Everything worked exactly as you said it would, mighty Azgalor…" Nobu'tan said to some being that was just out of sight, but nothing prepared Teg'Ramm for the monstrosity that emerged from the shadows. A hulking beast, wielding some sort of double ended sword or spear, stomped out of the crag on four powerful legs, its head and eyes aflame with Fel fire, highlighting the cruel horns and sharp teeth as it spoke, and the nose was like grating stones that made the rocks around them tremble.

"The same powerful bond exists between the orcs of the Horde and mighty Manneroth, so learn well the potential of their strength. The masters of the Legion eagerly wait to come in full force to this world, and use it as a powerful stepping stone to the ultimate prize. Do not fail us, little human…" the being said, even as it disappeared in a flash of Fel magic.

Nobu'tan stayed where he was until the demon was gone, and still waited for several moments longer, deep in concentration, before shaking his head angrily. "Still they withhold that knowledge from me, dangling it like bait to make me dance to their will. Well, so be it, I've already set this world on the path of its destruction, but the Legion better beware crossing me."

"Master?" Teg asked, even as Ramm was too stunned by what had just happened to speak.

"That was one of the Annihilan, a great Pit Lord of the Legion, their enforcers and generals," Nobu'tan explained, "sent to us by Mephistroth to offer his blood in forging these new Fel-Veela. They will have little choice but to serve us with all their new strength, and will be excellent new surprises should Dumbledore and his ilk start to snoop into my plans yet again."

Turning back toward the village, Teg'Ramm could see that the Veela were still thickly in their blood revelry, cries able to be heard from even this far away. "They will need blood soon to keep them satisfied," Ramm commented as Nobu'tan joined their vigil.

"Yes, they will, and I doubt that we'd have much chance of controlling them if we tried to keep them completely secret, but Dumbledore and those in Britain will take no notice if we unleash them here or there out on the continent, until they are needed for our purposes."

"So a location charm upon some object that they will carry, to find them when needed?" Teg said wisely, and his felt the pride at his master's smile.

"Exactly what I was thinking, come; let us prepare some for their leaders." Nobu'tan said, leading the ogre mage back to their tent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus might have finally had a breakthrough with some of the items that Potter had left behind in this hasty flight from the castle. Pouring over the slim notes that had been left, as the boy had been most thorough to remove anything with his writing upon it, he found select lists of what amounted to potions that the boy had routinely created, settled in among the other items.

The names were strange enough, but Severus was able to decipher what planets or animal parts were meant by them, even if the names were off in writing. Most of them were laid out in the piles of herbs that had also been left, so it severely limited the number of guesses that Severus had to make for a few of them, which helped immensely.

He had tried once before, early into watching over Potter as he made this strange potions tried to make one himself, only for it to be a terrible failure, which the boy had found more than amusing and used as his excuse to not teach him anything further, but now Severus tried again for the first time in almost two years.

He was just stirring the second ingredient, a leafy plant that the notes called Silverleaf, into the flowers and water that originally were placed in, and watching in amazement as the potions instantly transformed into the blood red mixture that had been explained to him as a healing potion of sorts.

But why? Why did the process work now, and not before? Had Potter been preventing him from succeeding, so unwilling to share his secrets? Somehow Severus did not think that was the case, as there were too many potential problems with intentionally foiling a potion, many of which could be fatal to all nearby.

If anything, Severus was willing to bet that the phenomenon was tired directly into the powers of the Arcane, and how much of it resided within his body now, after so many months of practicing it, rather than before when he was scarcely aware of it let alone proficient.

There had to be some sort of test to discover the truth, but Severus couldn't at the moment think of anything that wizard magic would be capable of to investigate such a matter. it wasn't as though the energies used were all that different between the Arcane and their wand-based magic, but the methods of casting and intents behind spells were much too rigid to effortlessly cross and interact with each other, part of the reasons that the Aurors seemed to have so much difficulty injuring any of the Arcane or Fel based creatures.

Sensing the all too familiar flash of magic that always heralded the arrival of Merlin, Severus stood. Perhaps there was finally something that he legitimately could ask of the ancient wizard, without allowing himself to devolve into an obnoxious sycophant lusting after the man's power; Severus thought, quoting Merlin himself in explanation as to why the powerful Mage had not returned to their world before this time.

Unsurprisingly, Severus found the ancient wizard up in the Headmaster's office, once again checking in with the news that even more locations had come up empty for any sign of Morgan le Faye. The growing concern about Merlin seemed to be far more taxing than it appeared, as the man seemed rather collected despite his statements to the opposite. Perhaps so long in Avalon dulled one's senses and the Magus just experienced things drastically differently.

"Ah, Severus, how nice of you to join us," Albus said as they turned to include him in their conversation, minutes after he had arrived and had been silently listening in.

"Headmaster, Magus," Severus said respectfully, turning toward Merlin, "I have a few questions regarding a matter of potential usefulness to us." He started, seeming to catch the attention of the far older wizard, appearances aside.

Quickly Severus explained the situation that he had found himself in, regarding the strange method of potion-making that Potter had used, and his previous failed attempts, leading up to his current success with the same task, and posing the question of whether it had to do with the increase of Arcane Magic in his system.

"Well, naturally it has everything to do with the Arcane magic within you." Merlin said, smiling to himself as though Severus was a child that had discovered a simply notion for the first time. "Many aspects of magic are tied directly to the amount of ambient world-magic, or arcane, that resides on the bodies of those who experience it. I daresay any of your students in this castle, whether they touched Arcane magic themselves or not, would soon be able to do the same methods of potioneering, among other pursuits that would have been previously impossible."

At Severus' confused look, Merlin chuckled, and continued, "Arcane magic, once started to be used in an area, churns up like a stirred cloud of dust, landing on anything in the area, and affixing itself to whatever is around. Even those who lack your wizarding magic, if exposed to enough of this Arcane Aura, would be considered somewhat magical in the eyes of the Arcane, and able to perform small acts, such as creating these potions, or working with minor enchanting, progressing to the point where they would be considered quite powerful in the scope of that art. They wouldn't become mages, per say, as they lack the ability to directly manipulate the magic within or around them, but indirectly through those tools they would have opportunity to make a difference."

It was an earth-shattering thought to Severus. Muggles would be capable of these feats if exposed to enough Arcane Magic around them. "Then the world that Potter came back to us from…" he started, but it was Albus that finished in wondering awe.

"Why, it must have been overflowing with this sort of magic…" he breathed.

"Precisely," Merlin agreed, "which explains the actions and interest of the Legion. Such a magically powerful world would be a crown jewel for their crusade to destroy, before the corruption of the Void Lords, their ancient enemies out in the Twisting Nether, had opportunity to fully infect and ruin such a world."

"Ironic that," Severus mused, "in their desire to stop their enemies, these Void Lords, the Legion would be so easily willing to sacrifice everything, even those worlds that they were originally supposed to be protecting from the very same enemies."

"Indeed," Merlin agreed, "I have a feeling, nothing more, that there is far more to this than even I am aware of, but so long as the Legion do not make it onto this world, we are safe. Our energies are best used in stopping Morgan from unleashing the Old Gods, and thereby drawing the Legion to us as the vile darkness spreads like wildfire across our world."

Severus was satisfied however, and nodded. Although it was true, and Morgan was the immediate threat, he did not fully agree that they were safe in ignoring Potter and his desires to summon this demonic horde to their world, and he knew that on the other side of Merlin, Albus agreed.

It seemed that a certain disconnect from reality was a side effect of staying too long in Avalon, and thereby the ancient wizard had lost some of his ability to rationally prioritize goals aside from that which was most important to him alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius panted for air after the latest bout between himself and Mad Eye, his limbs and magic screaming in protest from the strenuous workout that he had just been put through. Speeding through the various aspects of a Mage's magic was terribly difficult, but Sirius was driven by the knowledge that he needed these skills, desperately, to be able to be of use to Albus and rescue Harry from these crazy demon worshipping cultists.

Somehow, it came as no shock that Mad Eye had quickly become so terribly proficient with the magic, despite the old man saying that he barely had under a year of experience with it. It was still far more than Sirius, and it showed. The grizzled Auror was able to toss flames about like they were nothing, still nimbly dodging out of the way of Sirius' retaliations, although the other man chalked it up to his lifetime of fighting and working, while Sirius had been slowly dying in a cell in Azkaban for the last twelve years of his life.

Not that that meant that the old man was going easy on him. Sirius was pleased for that, as he knew Albus would insist on many breaks and their sessions would easily take three to four times longer to cover the same material. Sirius needed to be pushed if he was to succeed, it had been this way since Hogwarts, and being babied because he was malnourished and weak would not help him in the long run.

Still, Mad Eye was a grueling taskmaster, and even he knew when he needed to stop or risk hurting Sirius, so despite his aching muscles, Sirius was fully aware that he had been put fully through the paces of what he was capable of achieving at this present moment. But even still, there was something else on his mind as he hunched over his knees, sucking in air like it was going out of style.

What bothered him was that small hesitation on Moody part when he had arrived hours earlier, when Sirius had asked regarding Harry himself. Something was being hidden from him, Sirius could sense it, but naturally that was the point wasn't it? Those who knew would never tell him, except for perhaps one person. Although, to get in touch with and hold a civil conversation with that one would prove to be the most taxing thing that Sirius ever had to do.

Moody left shortly after, promising that he would return within a week, or to send an owl if he could not, for another session of Arcane-based fire magic, but Sirius was only half listening. Instead he was busy building a plan. He had be known as the skillful plot maker for the Marauders for a reason, and wondered briefly if Moody and Dumbledore had forgotten this fact.

Waiting an appropriate amount of time for the paranoid Auror to actually leave, as it was likely that he spent a great deal of time making sure that no one saw him depart from Sirius' hiding place, the Animagus shifted into the form of the great black dog and slunk out into the still snow covered grasslands around Hogsmeade.

It was complete child's play to sneak around through the forest and onto the castle grounds, despite the lurking Dementors that still plagued the boundaries of the school. When he was exonerated of his false imprisonment, Sirius was going to have a serious talk with Minister Fudge, probably at the end of a wand with a lot of cursing, both magical and normal, about how the man foolishly endangered so many children to capture one supposed prisoner, especially when he had evidence that the man in question was not as guilty as they supposed.

Crossing the snow covered grounds in the imprints by students and others to mask his presence, Sirius slipped into the castle via the open front door, and keeping to the shadows, went to the one location that he loathed above all others: the dungeons.

If he was to have a conversation with the bat, he would need to brave the lair where he dwelled, and Sirius knew that this was going to go very badly very quick. But for the answers he sought he had to go to the one person he could trust to be completely honest regarding it, especially if the truth would hurt him.

Following the powerful scents of potions and their ingredients, Sirius quickly found himself outside an office room with a closed, locked, and probably warded door. Knowing that delaying this would only make it worse for him later, Sirius scratched lightly on the outside of the door, making just enough noise to irritate anyone within, but not enough for it to echo down the halls and alert the students.

Soon enough the door opened slowly, and the sneering face of his longtime rival glared down at him. Sirius didn't give him the chance to close the door again, already working his way through the crack between door and wall, and entering the room. He didn't really care about what disgusting decorations Snape had placed on his office, this was too important. Shifting back to his human form, he looked at Snape with determination. "What happened to Harry?" he asked.


	39. C38: Schemes

**Many thanks tot hose who reviewed, and offered genuine accolades and advice, your words were appreciated greatly, especially with the RL problems I've been having concerning my laptop having a hardware failure while away at college. even now I am writing on a backup borrowed from a generous roommate, while my primary is off to the manufacturers for repair (hurray for warrantees). as part of the next chapter, I remind people to please review, as every extra bit of encouragement to continue writing is greatly appreciates, and make a follow up invitation to ask me questions regarding the story, as I will within reason answer them, so long as they are not primarily plot point spoilers, of which I will tell you on a case-by-case basis. with that said, here is the next chapter, as we draw near to the end of the PoA year section. ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Eight**

 **Schemes**

Hermione left Professor Dumbledore's office later that day, her brain swimming with new information and almost into a full headache from the questions that she still had regarding it all.

Apparently, she had only ever known the very tip of the iceberg when it came to the powers of the Arcane, despite her incredible advances, as per Dumbledore's words, but through his own brilliance and the assistance of Merlin the Guardian of Avalon, and Hermione was still trying to wrap her mind around the full importance of that, had sped him to even greater heights of Arcane knowledge that she had with her time as a Mage.

And then there was the knowledge that those that had kidnapped Harry had used him to force open a portal to Avalon and free Morgan le Faye, who seemed to have her own ideas of what to do in destroying the world. Hermione had demanded to help them fight the mad witch, but Dumbledore had only given her a neutral response. Naturally the man wanted to protect one of his students, but Hermione was determined. She alone of all the other student mages was strong enough to actually lend assistance to their group, and the more Arcane wielders they had the better, she had argued.

In the end, she departed with a promise that they would at least notify her when they learned where Morgan was, and the decision on whether she would assist would be brought back up then. That was when Hermione had know that she had won, as when such a circumstance occurred, there would not be time to hem and haw over the details. She would fight and prove herself to her mentors that she could indeed live up to their expectations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus knew that Black was still working with Albus and Moody, but seeing the vile mutt here in his own office was rapidly growing too much for even his cold patience to handle. However, there was something different in the man's stance as he stood before him, and the almost pleading in his voice when he demanded his burning question regarding Potter that gave Severus more tolerance… barely.

Naturally, the big question was what to actually do about this situation. His brain told him to not say anything, and follow what Dumbledore had ordered regarding keeping the secret of Nobu'tan from Sirius, but his heart and his gut wanted to speak, in part to watch the man suffer with the knowledge and in part relieve a pitiful creature of the diabolic pain of not knowing.

Still, he also had to factor in that that more desirable option had him spending far too much of his precious time in the man's presence than he would ever wish upon himself. Black could probably see the conflict on Severus' face, but he stood there, bold as brass despite the clear ache of wanting to know the truth reeking off of him.

"That will require a great deal of information," Severus settled on saying, hoping that the man might lose his nerve and give up the quest for such dark secrets, especially getting it from Severus himself. Mostly Severus did not want to deal with the fallout of what might happen should he be the one to tell Black this information, but he forgot that Black was the Gryffindor to end all Gryffindors, and the man stood his ground. "I will hear all of what is needed to know what happened to my Godson. I know Moody and Albus are keeping things from me, and even if it's for your own sick pleasure regarding it, you will at least tell me the truth."

It was a very correct and astute assumption, Severus had to admit, but now he was truly in a bind. There was no avoiding the concept that if he refused to answer Black, the man would continue to literally hound him until he broke and angrily told him everything, with full intent to harm him as much as possible, which naturally was exactly what Black wanted.

Therefore there was only one sure method to remove the need of future contact with the mutt, although that might prove to be equally painful for the moment. "Sit…" he requested, going straight for his personal stores of Firewhiskey, he would need something to quiet the churning of his stomach at having to do this.

After, and only after, downing at least three small glasses of the powerful liquor did Severus turn back to face Black. Crossing to his normal winged armchair, Severus sat heavily, resigned to what was about to occur in his office: a civil conversation with the man who attempted to have him brutally injured or killed when they were but teenagers.

"When Albus found Potter back in the ruins of Godric's Hollow, something was drastically different…" he began, almost monotone to show his displeasure at relaying any of this information, but Black did not comment. Instead he sat listening, captivated; trying to find any sort of hidden meaning or whatever else he was seeking.

Only three times throughout the entire retelling did Black interrupt to ask a clarifying question, and Severus took it in stride, despite wanting to grind his teeth until they shattered at hearing that man's voice in his private sanctuary. But dutifully, he explained, and continued, wanting to get through the traumatic experience for the pair of them as quickly as possible.

When he finally arrived at the summer between Potters second and what would have been third years, and the events that led to the boy's abrupt escape from the school, Black grew very still, listening as Severus described the black magic that the boy performed, the creature he had summoned, which Merlin had later confirmed as an imp, one of the scouts of the Legion.

Everything snowballed from there: the battle at the Ministry that Albus and Moody attended, the attack at the isle of Avalon, the release of Merlin and Morgan, and the resultant battle at the edge of the sea where Potter and his band of Fel magic users aided them in defeating the madwoman and driving her away to who-knew-where.

"So that is the answer, then?" Sirius stated after several long moments of silence following Severus finishing the tale. "Harry, little Harry that I carried on my back when he was only a year old has been turned into some power-hungry dark wizard, hell bent on destroying our world for some unknown reason, betraying us all to a ravaging horde of demons that seek to literally burn the universe…"

Severus could see the fractures forming in the man's mind without the use of Legilimency, but there was little he could, or wished, to do regarding it. "I've sated your curiosity, Black, now I suggest you return to wherever it is you are hiding before some student comes to speak with me and discovers a mad murderer in my office…"

But Black didn't move. If anything he seemed to just slump further in upon himself. "I've failed them all over again," he mumbled, speaking more to himself than Severus, but the words froze his heart nonetheless.

He knew exactly what the man was referring to. As Potter's godfather, it was his responsibility first and foremost to care for Potter's spawn in the event that he and sweet Lily died, and instead he set off on a path of petty revenge, that denied him his freedom for twelve years and led to all this madness. In a sense, all this could have been avoided if the man had taken his responsibilities more seriously, and not gone after Pettigrew.

But then, in the same vein of things, it was equally Severus' fault, having told the Dark Lord about the prophecy that had the madman target the Potters in the first place. He wasn't about to share this with Black of all people, but the guilt scorched like a branding iron, worse than any pain Severus had experienced from the Dark Mark that he had born like a traitors symbol for the same twelve years.

Finally, it seemed that the man did manage to pull himself somewhat back together, and solidified his resolve. "Yes, Albus has the right idea then," he said firmly, "this Legion must be stopped… Harry must be stopped, and we will capture him back and cure him of these delusional ideas, and make absolutely sure that he is healed of this dark magic."

Severus said nothing, knowing that Black was on one of his mad schemes, which were a force to be reckoned with, that is if his seven years at Hogwarts were anything to stand as firsthand knowledge. "Thank you, Severus," Black said, pronouncing his name correctly for the first time since the pair had known each other, and Severus couldn't help the shudder of revulsion that rampaged through him at hearing his rival and hated enemy name him with anything but loathing, but Black had already crossed to the door, shifted into his mangy canine form, and departed.

Severus quickly closed the door, wondering what on earth he had just unleashed onto the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was greatly pleased with the prospects of the Fel Veela. The gift that had been provided by the blood of a Pit Lord greatly changed their dispositions, and made them perfect tools to add to his growing number of allies and pawns. The Legion was slowly granting him the strength to make a stand, as they probably could sense through his ties to the Fel powers that he was nearing the culmination of his goal.

He wondered if Gul'dan would be proud to see all that his apprentice had accomplished in three short years. In time, Nobu'tan hoped to show the orc warlock all these things firsthand, when he was at last reunited with the one who had granted him all this knowledge and power in the first place.

He and Teg'Ramm had quickly returned to Malfoy Manor after that fateful ritual night, leaving the newly form clan of Veela to their own devises for the time being, knowing that he had complete control over them now if whenever he chose to call them into his service.

Normally he would have wanted to make use of these new servants as quickly as possible, but he had little choice with Dumbledore still in Britain, no doubt trying to keep an eye on his whereabouts even as Merlin strove to locate Morgan.

That was another sore point for Nobu'tan. The dark powers that the ancient witch served were quite unlike anything that he had expected or experienced, corrupting and vile, utterly repulsive to Nobu'tan by their very nature, albeit their similarities to some of what he wielded and was taught by Gul'dan.

"Shadow magic…" he said, the name springing to mind in a flash as he walked the grounds of Malfoy Manor, lost in thought over what had to be done in the near future. That was the only possible name for such a power, and its darkness was nearing a total eclipse. Where the warlock sought fire and death through demonic might, these Shadow wielders, Morgan and her abominations seemed to be set to utterly annihilate everything, themselves included.

What madness was it that drove one to such ends, he wondered. Nobu'tan was broken out of his thoughts be someone walking toward him, boots crunching the gravel of the path between several decorative plants.

Looking up, Nobu'tan gazed curiously at Lucius as the other man approached. "What news?" he asked. There was little that would make Lucius immediately seek him out when the man knew Nobu'tan to be on his property, usually waiting until they ran into each other, either at meals or in the room where the other members of the Order met regularly.

"I've reached the end of any research that I could possibly make to find the Elder Wand, my Lord," Lucius said, pride in his voice. He then began a short tale of how he had searched through the forgotten lore passed down by generations of wizards, each recording some Dark Lord who claimed to have an unstoppable wand, tracing it through history until it just vanished into legend, until a certain wand maker on the continent started to claim possession of the great Elder Wand, and was seeking to learn how it was constructed.

"I went and found this man, Mykew Gregorovitch, in his little village, and spoke at length to him regarding his claim to the wand. And he confirmed that he indeed had such a item in his possession, before it was stolen from him by a young man in the early 1900s, a young man that wizarding communities would know quite well as the Dark Lord Grindlewald. There comes a great reputation as to the man who had defeated this particular Dark Lord…"

"Dumbledore…" Nobu'tan finished, guessing where the idea was going. "You suspect that Dumbledore has the Elder Wand, the last item we seek to open this world to the Legion."

"I do indeed, which leads to a great many complications…" Lucius agreed.

A great many problems was an understatement to say the least. Not only was Dumbledore impressively powerful as a wizard, but Nobu'tan could feel the brilliant man's mind even as he tapped into the powers of the Arcane, the old man rapidly sealing the gap of power that separated Nobu'tan from the rest of the magic users on this planet.

"I will need more power if I am to fight Dumbledore himself over the control of that wand, but I certainly hope that your information is false somewhere along the line. The less interaction we have with that old man, the better for us all…" Nobu'tan said, seething inside. He may hope it wasn't true, but he greatly suspected that Lucius was right in his assumptions, as the pureblood Lord was rarely incorrect, and wouldn't share such information unless he was strongly convinced of it.

He would have to converse with his benefactors in the Legion, and see if he had any other options left if it came to a full out duel between him and the old man. Surely there was another option, but for the time being Nobu'tan could see little others available to him.

"For now, I believe it is time I resume my place at Durmstrang," Nobu'tan declared, catching the attention of Lucius.

"Return to Durmstrang, for what reason? I was under the impression that it served its purpose in hiding you for a short time," the man asked.

"And it most certainly did Lucius," Nobu'tan responded, "but now I believe there may be something else waiting for me when I arrive, not to mention that several of my possessions still remain in that castle, and I want them back."

Lucius said nothing, and Nobu'tan knew that the man had little say whether he chose to depart or not, and thus wisely held his tongue. "I don't intend to remain there for long. I need to be on hand when Morgan is found, as I doubt that Merlin and Dumbledore have the numbers to defeat her and her monstrosities on their own. They will call for me, and loath as I am to help them, this is an unacceptable threat that must be dealt with."

"Will you need anything to take with you, or shall I simply send for the ogre magi to escort you?" Lucius said, trying to be helpful.

"No, I should be safe enough on my own this time," Nobu'tan said, waving the man off from trying to hover over him like a pseudo-parent. Turning slowly, the warlock summoned a surge of Fel magic and carved his dark portal into the very air, opening the tunnel of space to his room in the tower of Durmstrang. Stepping through and allowing it to collapse behind him, Nobu'tan quickly waved his hand, channeling Arcane energy to animate many of the objects, so that they began organizing themselves for him and preparing for his departure, meanwhile Nobu'tan himself left the room to explore the halls of the school once more, and see what his presence might turn up.

Unsurprisingly, little had changed about the northern school, although it seemed that many of the students had taken note of the extended absence that Nobu'tan had taken well past the end of the winter holidays. Many of the students looked up at him as he passed, and a few even greeted him casually, but the best reaction by far was from the small collectives that had congregated in classes that he had sat in upon during his first stay, peppering him with typical teenage questions.

Nobu'tan indulged them for a short time, actually enjoying the sensation of being welcomed back to their school for a bit, and informing them that he was only returning for a short time before leaving again, but perhaps he would return in the near future. And that was partially true, as there was little for him to truly do once Morgan was defeated and they waited for an opening to seek the Elder Wand, outside of gathering more allies.

The same collectives that had flocked to him in hopes of learning the power of the Fel returned to his side, escorting him through the halls as their passing periods between classes allowed, and Nobu'tan was suitably impressed with their collective progress without his direct presence. Nowhere near what Granger or Draco had accomplished in a similar amount of time, but impressive nonetheless.

Once Nobu'tan was satisfied that his presence had been noted by most of the school, he made his way back to the tower where his private room was located, to finalize his preparations to return to the manor, only being stopped once as Karkaroff appeared around a corner.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, finished with you business back in Britain I presume?" he asked silkily, the same sickening desire to preen before the young warlock making Nobu'tan itch to ease the man's passing quickly.

"Not quite, I was simply returning to collect some important items I had left behind in my haste to go the first time, but I intend to return once that business is finally completed." He responded, and the ex-Death Eater turned Headmaster nodded, completely misunderstanding the reasoning that Nobu'tan had given or implied.

"Well, I hope you well on whatever it may be." He said, turning to depart, and Nobu'tan wondered if the man actually did know what the warlock was up to with Lucius, but was simply wise enough to keep silent.

Shrugging off the thought as unimportant, Nobu'tan entered the chamber, where all his items had long finished assembling themselves and shrinking down to fit within one small trunk, which was waiting for Nobu'tan to close and shrink further so that it could be carried upon his person.

Doing so quickly, Nobu'tan then glanced at a small timepiece that was upon a mantle in the room. The entire trip, including his lengthy walk about the castle, had taken less than a few hours at most, giving him plenty of time before he was expected back at Malfoy Manor. Smirking to himself, the warlock weaved a new portal of darkness, leaping through to the dirty side streets of Knockturn Ally, casually pulling his hood over his face and enchanting his voice to sound old and decrepit to anyone who did not know him personally.

Dark robes flowing around him as he walked, Nobu'tan enjoyed the familiar views of the dark portion of the wizarding shopping center, the winter cheer all but dead within the winding side street. Most he encountered subconsciously moved aside to let Nobu'tan pass, unable to recognize him but sensing a powerful individual, and knowing that it was best not to cross him.

Sadly, there was little of magical importance that caught the warlock's eye this time through the place, and he wandered until he came upon a seedy looking tavern, with dimmed candlelight within and a haze of some sort that shrouded many of the patrons. Little did Lucius or most of the Order know, but despite his young age, the nature of an orcish background had given Nobu'tan many extra experiences that likely, if known, would have made the younger members green with jealousy. One such was that Nobu'tan was already quite familiar with the taste and power of alcohol.

Although, due to his magical nature and strength, he had never been inebriated by what few drinks he had had in his life thus far, and the addictiveness of such beverages was completely void when it came to him, but occasionally there was a desire to just sit in a place that was less than clean and have a small drink.

Entering the tavern without a second thought, Nobu'tan weaved through the many wizards and creatures that seemed to be less aware than those who were outside in the street. The smell of various brews was heavy in the air, and Nobu'tan detected a few that he was more familiar with seeing around the Wizarding World, but nothing that he was familiar with tasting before.

Therefore, he went with a safer route, and ordered a simple malted mead, before carrying it to a far corner and sitting with his back to the walls so that he could watch the entire room as he partook. The sweetness of the drink was not as bad as the sweetness of the candy he had ingested since coming here, mixed as it was with some bitter herbs that made the flavor more palatable.

The groups around the room seemed to be divided off in sections of what they were desirous to do in spending their time here. Many were gathered around tables, playing cards or other various forms of gambling, while there were others on the far side that had females among their company in private booths. Nobu'tan was more or less aware of what was happening over there, but chose not to pay attention to it, more focused on observing the room at large.

There were others that were copying his stance, backs pressed to the walls as they watched for potential danger or other problems, and a few eyed Nobu'tan himself warily. The warlock knew the reasons why, especially as he had designed these robes for just such a purpose.

He was a potential wild card of magical ability, so thoroughly disguised by the jewels and other ornaments that gave off their own auras, distorting and masking his own magical presence quite effectively. Not to mention his size was somewhat concerning to most, being significantly smaller than the average adult human male, but that also was masked by the aged voice that Nobu'tan had used to order his drink, which added a sense of power and wisdom to his persona.

Yes, most were wary of starting anything in his direction, as there was little to no knowing who or what was under his cloak, and the less they knew, the better they felt about it. Nobu'tan smirked to himself as he took another long drink, feeling the pleasant warmth of the beverage sliding down into his stomach.

Unfortunately, it seemed that many of the others were not as adept or powerful to hold their liquor, or they simply had had far more of it than the warlock, as eventually at one of the tables with card players a dispute started up. Nobu'tan had seen these sort of gambling altercations before… one of the parties was losing so badly that they made wild accusations about the others cheating, as how could they possibly have such bad luck as to lose so many times in a row.

It was idiotic, but such was the nature of beings it seemed. Everyone in the tavern suddenly was on edge as chairs were throw aside and a pair of burly men engaged in physical violence, much to the displeasure of the tavern keeper, who shouted at the pair to knock it off or he'd banish them into the street and let them fight there.

Unsurprisingly, this did little to actually stop the brawl unfolding before him, and Nobu'tan watched in slight amusement as it escalated, friends of the two combatants jumping in to assist their respective side, until a good section of the entire tavern was in a cacophony of fists and feet, the drunk men swinging at almost anything that got too close.

Twice someone was shoved roughly toward Nobu'tan, and he had to sidestep quickly or be caught up in the increasing madness, before finally the tavern keeper went through on his threat, and with a slash of his wand forcefully sent the dozen or so drunks tumbling out of his establishment, leaving the room suddenly far quieter than even before Nobu'tan had entered the first time.

Returning to his secluded corner, Nobu'tan paused when he realized that it was no longer completely vacant. Another cloaked and hooded figure was there, slender and tall, betrayed by her figure that it was a woman. Nobu'tan sat however, once she turned and spoke to him, her red eyes peering out of the hood she wore.

"I wondered if we would meet again under friendlier terms, little rescuer…" Morgan le Faye said with suppressed giddiness, probably from the surge of violence that had just passed.

"Lady Morgan," Nobu'tan greeted with a small nod, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smiled widely, all the mad glee twinkling in her eyes as she spoke, "I know that we did not part on the best of terms, nor did we truly meet well again after that business in Avalon, but I had not thanked you properly for making it so I could escape and continue the work that I had nearly finished so long ago."

Nobu'tan said nothing, not sure if he wanted to know what her idea of 'thanking' him entailed, until the woman produced a think, ancient tome from her robes and slid it gently across the table.

"All the knowledge that I acquired for the brief time I too served the Legion, before the call of greater powers woke me to the weak minded thoughts that those titan controlled fools delighted in." she explained, stroking the cover gently with one hand, the nails filed to razor sharp points.

Nobu'tan knew that conversing with this madwoman was tempting danger, but the longing for more knowledge to hopefully defeat Dumbledore when the time came if and when he had to take the Elder Wand from the old man was too great. He gratefully accepted the tome, noting the ancient script and recalling the incantations for his translation charms for when he would need them. He had no desire to reveal too much of himself to this woman, "Thank you for the freely given knowledge," he said diplomatically, "but I hope you understand that we likely will face again as enemies after this, due to our differing allegiances…"

She smirked, "Oh, I know that, but hopefully in time you will fully read that tome and understand what makes the Legion tick, and then you too will wish to see them destroyed…"

Nobu'tan wasn't sure what was with everyone he met trying to dissuade him from trusting in the Legion's promises, but it was starting to grow tiresome. Having finished his drink during the brawl some time ago, he pushed the mug aside, leaning back and casually observing those around them.

No one was paying them any sort of attention, so he relaxed a touch, rising to his feet. "I need to get back before I am missed…" he said casually, eager for any excuse to get as far from this woman as he could when alone. The ancient witch did nothing to stop him, but Nobu'tan could feel her eyes on him the entire way out of the door, and somehow the sensation did not leave even when he was out in the street and crossing to a secluded side street of the dark alleyway.

Concentrating on the problems at hand, Nobu'tan easily and quite mindlessly formed a portal to the grounds of Malfoy Manor, slipping through to the rose gardens and tastefully lit greenery and shutting his rip in space as he contemplated.

He could easily use his sighting of Morgan to assist in narrowing the search for her hiding place, if he collaborated with Dumbledore and Merlin immediately, but the problem was that the woman made such an excellent distraction for them that he couldn't see a useful reason to betray her location.

Having the mages run in circles, searching for a different enemy than himself was proving to be the most productive time that the warlock had had since arriving on this world, even if he was still wanted by and being inadequately searched for by the British Ministry.

He was already preparing to tie everything together once he found the final artifact he needed, and then finally the Legion would arrive, allowing Nobu'tan to at last received his long awaited reward, and return to the world he was raised in.

Going to his personal room, rather than the room devoted to the Order of the Black Harvest, Nobu'tan took out the book that Morgan had gifted him, wondering what it possibly contained. Unable to resist the curiosity for long, he cast the translation charm rapidly, his mind working to absorb the information as quickly as possible. The book had no title, but its introductory sections told Nobu'tan everything he wanted to know regarding its contents. This book was a record of the Legion's dealings with the mortals of this world, and how that had shaped their history.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was concerned with what he had just seen. He had been lurking just out of sight to Severus' offices, keeping a lookout so that the other members of the Order could pass without interruption, as their Head of House had taken to arbitrarily questioning them on various things, primarily things that could potentially lead to him learning the whereabouts of Nobu'tan, and they were growing tired of the inquisition every time they met him.

But even still, while quietly watching, Draco saw the door swing open quickly, and just before he could duck out of sight a man exit the dungeon office and immediately shifted into the form of a massive black, grim-like dog, and bounded away toward the Entrance Hall.

The problem with this was Draco had seen the man's face before he had changed, and he knew enough from the pictures that his mother had showed him of the Black Family before the rise of the Dark Lord to recognize his uncle, Sirius Black, the infamous fugitive, without any degree of doubt in his mind.

The real question was why Black would be in Snape's office, out of anywhere in the castle, especially with the professor inside it at the time. Draco had been waiting for almost an hour, and knew for a fact that the man had not left via the front door all this time.

Soon enough Snape himself appeared, also going towards the stairs leading up to the rest of the castle, and Draco beckoned behind him for the others to move, and head toward their usual hiding spot in the deeper section of the dungeons that was mostly unused and abandoned. Meanwhile, Draco himself returned to the common room, urgently fishing for parchment and a quill from his school bag, and hastily writing a coded message to his father.

This was something that would be immensely useful in distracting Dumbledore's faction, especially if the Ministry was involved. The Aurors may currently be after Nobu'tan and their band of followers, but Fudge still listened intently to Lucius' advise, and knowledge that Black was spotted inside Hogwarts itself would set a fire under the man that would blaze right out of control, taking most of Dumbledore's attention to extinguish.

Summoning a house elf from the manor, Draco handed the creature the letter, with orders to immediately deliver it to his father, before joining the other students learning to be warlocks in their secret hiding place.

Entering with a large smile on his face, Draco was unsurprised that he garnered a great deal of attention. "What is it?" Theodore asked, even as Blaise approached as well, and the three Council leaders stepped aside of the others for a few spare moments.

"I believe I saw something that will of great use to keep the Light off our backs for a short while longer, perhaps the rest of the year at least…" Draco said with a smirk.

"Well, don't leave us in suspense, what did you discover?" Blaise said, his typical lack of patience shining clearly in the relaxed setting of his fellow warlocks.

"Sirius Black was inside the castle, speaking with Professor Snape…" Draco revealed, and the other two third year students couldn't resist the wide grins that appeared on their faces as they came to similar conclusions that Draco had.

"I trust that this was an actual sighting, and not you just coming up with the story now?" Theo said, holding up his hands in surrender when Draco shot him a glare at even suggesting that he was lying.

"No, he was here; I'd recognize him easily enough from all I have learned about my family. The question is how will the Ministry respond, and what other fallout there will be regarding this entire matter. If Black was here, and speaking to Snape of all people, then he is clearly working together with them in order to find Nobu'tan…"

"This is likely our one shot to stall them as long as possible." Blaise said, still smiling at all the possibilities.

"I've already written to my father, to inform Lord Nobu'tan on how they might proceed, but I wouldn't be surprised if we had Aurors showing up tomorrow regarding this 'rumor'." Draco speculated, and the others smiled again, knowing that they had done all they could do for the time being. It was up to the others outside Hogwarts to make such a plan come to fruition.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius had never been more proud of his son when he read the hasty note, hand delivered by Dobby, his personal House Elf. The boy was fulfilling his role as the second member of the Council of the Black Harvest well, both in leading the newest generation of Warlocks as they learned in relative secret under Dumbledore's nose, and still managing to spy for them, uncovering true gold in all its controversial glory.

Lucius walked the letter straight to Nobu'tan's guest room, and knocked politely before letting himself in. Nobu'tan was there, writing scroll after scroll in what appeared to be a green-blue ink that sparkled and smell faintly of the sea as he did so.

"There is news from Hogwarts, something I think you will be most pleased to learn of, if not concerned about other aspects." Lucius declared.

"Please, read on," Nobu'tan said, focusing on the writing he was doing to finish the latest scroll. There were already around two to three dozen lying in piles on the floor, but it seemed that the young warlock was intent on having a powerful stockpile of whatever magic was entrapped by the enchanted ink for their uses.

Clearing his throat once, Lucius read, skipping a few of the more personal aesthetics that had been added as part of a proper letter, which Lucius himself had trained Draco in writing for every letter and note, no matter the haste required to generate it, as part of it being an official letter from the future Head of House Malfoy.

' _I must inform you of new developments that have sprung up in secret at the school. It appears, from what our many watchful eyes have gathered, that one supposed mass murderer, Sirius Black, had entered Hogwarts at least once, and been received by staff without any attempt to subdue or arrest him made._

 _I speculate that this man is actively working with the Order of the Phoenix, whether in an official or unofficial capacity, and is definitely in open communication with the Headmaster. This presents a rare and wonderful opportunity for us, to distract them along with the Ministry, as to my knowledge the Minister is still hoping to capture Black to save his own image, so I leave this information with you, as well as the decision of how best to proceed with it._

 _Draco_ ,'

Nobu'tan, who had finished his scroll in the middle of Lucius reading, looked both somewhat confused and unaware of the full scope of the plot Draco was suggesting. "Sirius Black was arrested and put into Azkaban for the crime of leading the Dark Lord to your biological parents, and indirectly killing them." Lucius explained, to which Nobu'tan gave a nod of sudden comprehension.

"Ah," was all he said.

"So," Lucius continued, "With Black not only having escaped from the wizard prison, Azkaban, but actually infiltrating Hogwarts and communicating openly with staff there, Fudge would easily have an aneurism at even the rumor of such a thing. The dementors around the school would probably be given the go ahead to search the grounds, possibly even the castle, which would be a nightmare for Dumbledore, who has resisted their placement around the school since the beginning of the idea during the summer."

"So, the Ministry is preoccupied controlling these creatures and searching for Black, along with whatever connection he may or may not have to the school, and Dumbledore is distracted by keeping the beasts out of the castle, and the political fallout of the accusation." Nobu'tan summarized.

"Precisely," Lucius all but purred. This was simply too good for them to pass up, even if it proved to be a wild goose chase for the Ministry. Already he was drafting an unsuspecting letter to Cornelius, posing as some villager from Hogsmeade, spreading the tip that Sirius Black was seen on the Hogwarts grounds, entering the castle, and then the paranoid Minister would do the rest of his own accord.

Lucius was always pleased at how tenacious the man could be when his reputation was supposedly on the line, but then again, Lucius himself had been the one to constantly remind the man that he was watched at all times, his enemies waiting for one sign of weakness to begin launching campaigns to impeach him. Fear really was one of the best motivators, in Lucius' humble opinion.

Nobu'tan seemed to finally grasp in full the prestigious usefulness of this scheme, and smiled widely. "I approve of this tactic, go ahead with it, and I'll expect you to take charge regarding it Lucius, as you have the most expertise with these matters."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said, noting how easily the title slipped out when he spoke. But then, if there was anyone worthy of the title he had once given to the madman he had previously served, Nobu'tan probably was the one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was interrupted from his copious amounts of paperwork mid March by the charm to his office staircase. "Enter," he called as whoever it was, Minerva presumably, arrived at the top step. Who he did not expect to come through the door in an angry rush was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. "Ah, Cornelius, what a pleasure, what can I do for you. Have a seat," Albus said cheerfully, inwardly wincing at the presence of the man. He did not have time for whatever inane prattle that the politician had now, "Lemon Drop?" he offered, as part of his usual invitations.

"No, thank you," Cornelius said, eyeing the crystal tray of candies suspiciously, and refusing to take a seat, preferring to stand stock still in the center of the room, which was not a good sign. "Albus I came as more of a courtesy than anything else, but in light of the information the Ministry has received, Hogwarts needs to be searched…"

"Searched… by whom and for what?" Albus said, growing highly suspicious. Just what had happened to make the normally mild mannered Minister this jumpy?

"Searched for Sirius Black, who was seen entering the castle multiple times by eyewitnesses from the village, and by the only guards we have on hand at the moment." Cornelius said, and Albus' blood froze.

Foremost, he knew Sirius was better than to allow anyone outside the castle spot him in human form, he was brash but not a fool, which meant that someone inside the castle had seen him and reported it. Secondly, and far more dire, was the ramification of the Ministers second piece of information.

"Cornelius…" Albus warned, his tone growing cold as stone, "I will not permit those beasts from entering this castle, call for Aurors if you wish, but no Dementor shall enter these walls while I am Headmaster."

"I was afraid that you would say that," Cornelius said, pulling out a small stack of papers and setting them gently on the desk. Glancing at the top sheet, Albus' sagged slightly in his seat. It was orders for temporary suspension of the Headmaster, signed by all the Governors of Hogwarts, with Lucius Malfoy's name easily three times the size of any other right in the center.


	40. C39: The Ancient One

**Many thanks to those who reviewed, and Great News everyone. There really is an end to the HP world arc... in another 10 chapters or so, but it a real thing! Patience i beg of those of you tired of Earth, we will indeed return to Azeroth soon enough, and easily the rest of the story will take place within that timeline, so worry not. that said, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Thirty Nine**

 **The Ancient One**

Alastor was furious at the news he received from Albus. The foolishness of the Ministry could very well prove the destruction of their entire world. Alastor had had some choice words with the Ministers over the years, but Cornelius Fudge was one that he was ready to simply throttle for his lack of intellect.

Amelia was sympathetic, but incapable of going against her employer, which both Alastor and Albus understood. The highest indignity of it was that, little known to anyone expect for Alastor himself, Albus actually had no home to go to outside of Hogwarts, having sold all of his assets to help fund the first war against Voldemort. So the Headmaster of Hogwarts was currently in Alastor's sitting room, having taken up temporary residence at the old Auror's insistence.

They had moved the primary location of the Order of the Phoenix's operations there as well, which meant that as much as Alastor disliked company, his home was now a place of refuge for their meetings and regular visits. The upside was at least he got to experience Molly Weasleys cooking roughly two to three times a day, after she had heard of the Headmaster's plight.

"So I suppose monitoring those who support the Potter brat will fall to Severus then?" Alastor was saying, in a closed meeting that only those who knew the entirety of the matter regarding Potter and the outer magic, as Merlin had called them.

"It must be so, as none else can go into Hogwarts easily, but I image with the dementors that even they would be slow to do anything too drastic. At least we know that this will be a short setback, as there is no way they will find proof that Sirius was ever in Hogwarts." Albus said, stroking his long white beard as he spoke, spoon in the other hand as he finished a marvelous soup that Molly had sent over hours ago.

"The only time I went in outside of meeting with you, Albus, was to have a few words with Severus…" Sirius reported, "That could be the only time a student saw me, but I was in my animagus form the entire time, so I have no idea how or when…"

"It is on little consequence now," Severus cut in, and Alastor noted that the man seemed paler than usual. Close contact with a dementor would do that, and there had to be at least a hundred flowing over the castle these days. Alastor pitied the poor children that now had to be traumatized by those horrors. The parents would be in an uproar.

"Still," he said, turning to their final member, "do we have any idea where Morgan is? The sooner we deal with her, the better I'll sleep."

Merlin sighed, "She has done an excellent job in secreting herself from us, and somehow I doubt we will find her until she wishes it to be so, unless she made some sort of mistake that we've missed, but I cannot be sure."

Something moved in the corner of Alastor's vision, and he whirled just then, standing and knocking his seat clear. There was a green and orange eye floating in the corner of the room, spying on them. Conjuring a ball of flame, Alastor hurled it at the intruding scrying orb, and it detonated with a puff of Fel magic. "We were being watched," he said sternly, wondering why none of the others had noticed, or if the eye had just arrived and he was the first to react.

Unfortunately, the damage had apparently been done, as soon enough a tear formed in the middle of the air in Alastor's sitting room, furling outward until it was large enough for a person to enter. And one did, short and rather scrawny despite the large black robes he wore. Harry Potter was a bold little brat, Alastor had to give him that, to walk directly into a meeting of his enemies unafraid.

"Ah, I had wondered where you had all gone to hide after that incident with the Ministry…" he said casually, his eyes glancing over each of them.

Alastor had to heavily place a hand on Sirius to prevent the man from leaping from his seat and sprinting for the man's godson, but the pleading was still in his voice as he spoke.

"Harry?" Sirius said, "Is it really you?"

Red eyes gleamed as he glanced at the man who had watched him as an infant, "I was…" he said cryptically, "but no longer. I am Nobu'tan, heir of the chieftain of the Stormreaver Clan, and it would be well for you to remember that… however, I am not here to quarrel with you, this time… I overheard you speaking of the mad witch Morgan, and I have information to present and I suppose, as allies in the joint effort to stop her and her madness, I ought to weigh in on what my warlocks will do to aid you mages…"

Albus and Merlin were the first to recover. "Please then, have a seat," the Headmaster offered, gesturing at one of the small chairs that decorated Alastor's otherwise sparse living quarters.

The boy accepted, sitting quite formally, as though he was the most important one there, and began, "little over a week ago Morgan found me in a tavern on Knockturn Alley…"

"What in blazes were you doing there Harry, your parents would be shocked to know that you spent any time in that horrid market!" Sirius said, straining against Alastor to rise yet again.

"I'm sorry," the boy responded, "but whatever familiar ties you hold with me are of no use, and better forgotten. I may have been known to you as a babe, but I do not know you, and I will not accept that you hold any authority over where I go or what I do…"

It looked as though Sirius had been punched right in the gut, he deflated slightly, ceasing to resist Alastor guiding hand to keep him seated, and soon enough the boy continued.

"Anyway, I met here there, she had clearly sought me out it seemed, as I had not previously designed to meet her again, and she spoke with me concerning a few matters that are irrelevant to finding her, but I am sure that she remained in or near the London area, as she did not smell of traveling magic of any sort. I would go so far as to guess she might be living in the Alley itself, but that may be stretching a bit. Regardless, I am sure that she is nearby there, so any search should commence there, and expand outward."

The boy shifted slightly in his seat, as to address Merlin and Albus more than the rest of the group, "So, once she is found, do we just confront her head on, or what sort of stratagem are we intending to use in defeating her?"

"It would definitely not be the best option," the sagely, ancient wizard replied, "We would first have to be sure that there would be no innocence caught in the crossfire, and no way for her to easily escape before committing to any grand onslaught."

"I purpose we use young Nobu'tan as bait for her to come out in the open," Albus stated, causing them all to turn to him, and Potter to raise an eyebrow in question.

Albus held out a hand for a moment, "If she has gone out of her way to contact him once already, she might do so again, with a bit of prompting, if we can find a way for you to send her a message, we might be capable of luring her into a trap."

"And here I was thinking you were incapable of something truly devious…" Potter said with a smirk.

"I have my moments…" Albus replied graciously.

"Would an owl be capable of finding her though?" Severus commented, "I mean to say, if it was that simple, why hadn't we already thought of it?"

"It's true, something as simple as a letter via owl wouldn't be the most obvious answer," Albus conceded, "but I presume that there might be other methods that we could employ," he added, sending a look at the sallow man, who paled as he realized something unspoken.

"Granger's ritual? As you sure Albus, we do not know why it failed still…" Snape said, and the entire table grew curious.

"Tell me of this ritual, and I will see to working out what possibly went wrong," Potter said, eagerness in his eyes to learn of new magic. Alastor felt uneasy telling the boy any amount of information that he could use against them, but Albus clearly thought no harm of it as he explained the concepts that the younger mage had designed in her attempts to location the boy himself, and their speculations of why it had failed.

"Ah, there was no failure there," Potter said at last, after several moments of thought, "it was simply a fragile spell, not anchored into anything that would give it strength to not be easily banished. Clearly these creatures she saw had power of their own, and dispelled the scrying as soon as they sensed it to preserve what secrecy that they had wanted. Between us however, and magnifying the spell through several means that I know of, I believe we could adapt it to function and locate the true whereabouts of Morgan."

"How long would it take?" Albus asked, his own desires to see such magic being revealed.

"Oh, I doubt it wouldn't take too long, just writing a few formulas and altering them for the different numbers of members and their drastic levels of power difference. The question really is whether we have Merlin, the most powerful, stand in the center, or myself as the only warlock." The boy explained, even as he removed parchment from his robes and started jotting quick notes, sketching out a few runic symbols in the attempt to find the right one for their number.

"If we seek to call to darkness, then darkness must be our lead," Merlin attested, "It will be easier if you are calling to her, rather than I, I believe…"

The boy nodded, making another couple of notes. "I agree," Albus said, injecting his own knowledge, "if we are to arrange by comparative levels of power, and setting yourself aside, that would pair myself and Merlin, while Severus and Alastor are closer in power."

The boy nodded again, finally putting away the quill he was writing with. "I suggest a pair of connected triangles," he indicated an hourglass shape that he had sketched out; surrounded by a circle of runes in a language that Alastor had never seen before.

"Albus and Merlin will be opposite each other, as will Snape and Moody," the boy continued to explain, indicating the corners of the hourglass, "While I stand in the middle and direct the flow of magic to our mutual end."

"But what about me?" Sirius protested, but the boy ignored him, leaving the explanation to one of the older wizards, "Rituals, by their nature, are highly unstable magic, Sirius, and therefore great care has to be taken in tailoring one. Aside the one whom is the lead of the spell, or the center focus, all others have to be paired with someone of relative power or the spell could easily become unbalanced and volatile. It's not that you're assistance is unwanted; it's just a lack of extra person to pair with you.

Sirius looked rather put out about that, but even the heir of the Black line understood the nature of magic, and sat back down, in silence. Merlin and Albus both looked over the diagram, and while it was clear that they did not understand the runes the boy had written either, they could find no fault in his Arithmancy. "How long will it take for you to create the ritual circle?" Albus persisted.

"Technically I could do it right in here in a matter of twenty minutes maybe, but that's completely up to you," the boy replied, sitting back and smirking at his cleverness.

"Do so, the sooner we locate Morgan the better our chances at stopping her will be," Merlin said, standing and moving some of the furniture with a wave of his hand. Alastor was not pleased to have a rune circle drawn in his sitting room, but for the sake of the world there were worse sacrifices to make, so he remained silent.

True to his word, the drawing out of the full sized ritual symbols took less than a half hour, and in a manner that would easily be brushed away once they were finished. Immediately after he finished, Potter started to arrange them onto the corners of the hourglass, urging them to call all the power of the Arcane that they could muster, and pour it into the circle to charge it, while he took up place in the middle, and much to their mutual chagrin, started to channel his vile demonic magic.

Alastor knew that it was needed to call out to the dark witch, but still it was a dreadful thing to experience firsthand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the circle was charged to the point of a soft blue glow, the excess power started to filter upward to Nobu'tan, he began his complicated sending. Picturing his target in his mind, Morgan le Faye, the warlock began casting the spell to summon eyes of Kil'rogg at an alarming pace, sending them far and wide over the houses and London, speeding their travel by power of the Arcane magic being fed into him, magnifying his ability to see an hundredfold.

Images streamed through his mind, of locations far and near, even as each of the hundreds of eyes started their complicated search for the powerful witch. Empowering each with the might of the Arcane and a touch of the Fel magic, Nobu'tan was quickly able to narrow the search by concentrating on those places with any amounts of magic.

All those who had found new or other young wizards were dismissed immediately, while those over the alleyways of the wizarding market took their time to see if she was hiding in or among the various shops and side streets that permeated the hidden district.

But it was those eyes that scouted out to the coastline that held the interest of the warlock. He knew that Morgan had sought the sea as her first destination, when they had fought her so fiercely. That meant that water, or the oceans, were strongly related to those beings she wanted to bring forth. And it was there that his seeking eyes found a trace of her magic. So strengthened by the Arcane magic flowing through him from the other casters, Nobu'tan was able to easily conjured more eyes from that location itself, spreading an immediate search net around the location that he sensed her magical signature.

Far away from his consciousness and its search, Nobu'tan heard in a small voice as his body announced to the room that he had found her trail. He could not hear any replies however, as already he was following the hints of dark magic that lingered around the water, following it like a felhunter back to its source.

A massive outcropping of rocks, jutting out into the sea loomed off some mighty cliffs south of city along the coast. It nearly looked like some sort of miniature fortress, but completely natural, and positively brimming with magic of its own. Nobu'tan realized the trick that the sly old witch had pulled over even Merlin. The magic was all concealing in nature, and based of the natural wizarding spells that would otherwise have been ignored.

"There she is… I've found her hiding place…" he announced, his voice growing stronger as Nobu'tan started to return his consciousness to his body. Before the eyes winked out of existence entirely, he caught a faint glimpse of the witch herself, out on a shard of stone that overlooked the sea, already in the throes of channeling her powerful spell once more, and the sea churned in reply.

Quickly he returned to the room that they were all still in, maintaining the power of his ritual. Ironically, this spell served a second purpose to Nobu'tan alone. He could sense through the magic that each wizard was sending him, the relative strength and aptitudes of the wielder.

The powers of frost and fire from Snape and Moody he knew already, and their might was limited compared to his own. Albus had grown very strong in the pure fonts of the arcane, and could be a challenge when the time came, not that Nobu'tan hoped for a straight duel between them regardless.

But it was Merlin the frightened him, as not only was the man a master mage, well beyond even his and Albus' level, but there was a hint of other magic in the man that Nobu'tan was most unfamiliar with. The elements sang within him, as well as something else, more wild and driving from the sun, moon and stars.

A powerful Guardian of this world indeed, he was forced to accept. Nobu'tan had to think quickly on how to get Merlin out of the way so that the Legion's summoning would go on without a drastic hitch.

"Morgan has been found, and we are short of time to adequately prepare to face her. Her spells have already begun again, and I sense that she seeks to awaken something massive this time." Nobu'tan informed the rest of those present.

"Then there is no time to try and lure her out anywhere, we have to go to her once more, and trap her in the lair. If we can stop her channeling, it would be her alone that we had to deal with, after preventing her escape." Merlin stated, looking at Albus who subtly nodded in agreement.

Nobu'tan had to resist the smirk that wanted to crest his face. Here he was, their true enemy, assisting these wizards yet again with something else the threatened their world in a more immediate mode, all the while paving the way for their destruction in the background.

Surely they had to be aware of the dangers, but these foolish light wizards had little choice but to ally with him against Morgan, and Nobu'tan wondered if he could simply take the Elder Wand from Dumbledore now, and unleash the Legion to eliminate Morgan and the others in one fell swoop.

But… it was too risky with there being five separate wizards against him, and Merlin as one of them to boot. Better to string them along and be rid of the Guardian first, then the wand would be significantly easier prey for him.

Banishing the excess magic from his body, Nobu'tan started working on a portal to the location burned into his mind, even as the others grabbed what items they thought they could use against the powerful sorceress.

Feeling the tear in reality finally appear, Nobu'tan pulled it wide enough for them all to pass quickly, noting that the way was more difficult this time, as there must have been some level of warding protecting Morgan's location that he had just bypassed through his clever magic.

Keeping this information to himself, Nobu'tan waited for the other wizards to be ready to cross over to the soon to be hostile environment. It was clear that Morgan was aware how his portal magic functioned, and had been made aware of their coming, but Nobu'tan knew that he alone had power to escape if it was needed.

Nodding to the wizards as they returned, fully geared for the looming battle ahead, Nobu'tan held the portal stable as they crossed through one at a time, Merlin and Albus in the lead, with the other three following close behind. Nobu'tan brought up the very rear, quietly summoning Quzkol to support him when the worst happened.

The crashing of waves was almost deafening, as the churning sea raged and roiled before them. Morgan still was controlling her summoning, and already there were vicious creatures, just like before, storming up from the cresting waves to hinder them. Snape lunged forward then, the powers of ice and frost weaving around him, and a water elemental rose into being, mimicked in its dark shadows by Nobu'tan as he conjured another of the beings, realizing what the dour man was up to.

Blasting not the creatures themselves, but the path they needed to take to reach the group of mages and warlock with frost and ice, together Snape and Nobu'tan made the path very difficult to traverse, afterward setting the water elementals to attack anything that dared to approach them. Nobu'tan waited on summoning more demons, knowing that his powers would be needed to inflict pain on the witch to stop her from being able to escape or harm them in return.

"You're too late, Guardian of Avalon," the witch taunted, even as her vile minions started up the beaches for them, "the Dark Ones have stirred, and will awake at last to consume this world. Not even the mighty Legion will be able to stop them. Then the Black Empire shall be reestablished on this world, and from it we will soar among the stars and bring our war back to the rest of creation!"

With a grand flourish, she ended her spell, just as the seas exploded upward, unleashing a great monstrosity that was covered in mad, writhing tentacles and clawed pincers, with spines and other deadly apparatuses covering the chitins shall that served as its armor.

"An Old God…" Merlin said in barely a whisper. "We must slay this being, and capture Morgan as quickly as possible," he said, desperately running at the witch, even as lightning crackled in his hands.

Nobu'tan took this as his cue, and opened himself fully to the might of the Fel magic calling to him. From high above a portal to Nether worlds opened, and half a dozen meteors fell with great force, a few of them striking the hulking creature, which let loose a shrieking wail of pain. From the craters and out of the now sizzling sea rose Infernals, the constructs of doom that the Legion granted to their faithful.

Opening wide portals to the realms of Fel and fire, Nobu'tan summon hordes of imps to his aid, Voidwalkers from the realms of shadow, succubi in the dozens, as well as rows upon rows of the Felguard, all eager to wage battle against their most ancient of foes, the forces of corruption and evil.

Battle sufficiently joined down on the beaches, the warlock ran as fast as his legs could churn up the sand to reach the mages on the outcropping of rock, where they now traded spell with Morgan, her shadow magic pushing them to the very limit of their knowledge in the Arcane.

It seemed to Nobu'tan that like him, the witch had mastered multiple schools of magic, although she had delved into the dark abyss that was the Void itself, reaching out to the beings of madness that sought to turn the entire universe into a gibbering paradise for themselves, or otherwise a null emptiness where nothing lived.

This was a point where the Legion would stand with mortals against something far more terrible than even themselves, and although Nobu'tan knew that he sought this worlds end as well, at least that was more merciful than what this Old God had planned.

Launching blasts of Fel fire from his hands, he knocked aside several dark bolts that Morgan had sent at Merlin, even as the ancient wizard struck back, harnessing the very elements around them to bring bolts of lightning down from the sky with thunderous force.

Morgan was hurled to the ground, and Merlin stood triumphantly over her, simple wooden staff blazing with fire as he turned toward the massive creature that battled the small army of demons.

"Storm…" he chanted, even as thunderclouds started to form overhead. "Earth…" the very ground beneath them started to tremble at his command. "And Fire… Heed my call!" flames leap into being, and Nobu'tan himself felt some sound of blood pounding in his ears, and a righteous fury well up inside him that he had not know existed. Merlin had cast some spell to empower his allies, or those who fought with him at this time.

Turning upon the Old God, Nobu'tan felt the desire to rend earth and sky in order to destroy the abomination, and without warning had slipped into his demonic form, claws sputtering to life with demonic fire as he leapt with great force, wings catching the air as he soared toward battle with the deadly creature now staggering back from the magical onslaught of the wizards he had allied with against this menace.

Fel magic and claws met with hardened armor and strange, spongy flesh in a riot of gore, and Nobu'tan fought like a ferocious animal, even as his army surged around the abomination's legs, slashing with axes or flinging fiery bolts upward at its face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius did what he could, launching orbs of fire at the frightening creature that had risen out of the sea, but he found himself continuously distracted by the hulking creature that his godson had transformed into. Having been told about the frightful powers that James' son had taken up was one thing, but seeing them first hand was another altogether.

Of course, that distraction was nothing compared to what occurred when the sea creature started to laugh, a deep dooming sound that resembled rocks grinding together. The thing spoke in a strange language that was more gibbering than anything, and Sirius couldn't understand it, until the words were forcefully placed into his head, like maddening whispers.

" _There is nothing you mortals can do. All light is lost within the depths…_ "

Ironically, rather than cause despair to well inside of him, Sirius grew angry. How dare this monstrosity try to frighten them? Whether the boy wanted it or not, Sirius would protect his best friend's son, and nothing, not even some eldritch being from the depths of the sea could stop him.

Rushing forward to the edge of the battling creature and the demons that fought it, Sirius channeled as much fire as he could into a mighty pyroblast, hurling the immense orb of raging flame at his enemy. Even as the orb struck, the massive creature was swatting the demonic form of Harry from its back, but was prevented thereby from actually hurling the boy in demon form into the sea. Instead, Harry's body came crashing near to Sirius, just on the far side of his ranks of minions.

Sirius rushed to him, unsure what he could possibly do for the boy in his current form. "Harry…" he said concerned, before he turned to face the abomination as it started to wade toward them, probably intent on finishing off his godson before turning on the rest of them.

Launching attack after attack at the creature, Sirius saw with dawning horror that his spells were having very little effect on it, doing nothing more than slowing it down. But he stood his ground, willing to die to protect the son of Lily and James if need be.

"You fool!" Harry snarled, his voice deepened and guttural from the transformation upon him, even as the winged creature that was his form rose from the sand.

"Yeah, well your parents said that too," Sirius replied, readying himself to die in the place he never should have left, watching over the godson he had sworn to protect. Maybe this was payment for all the years he wallowed in that prison for acting selfish and rashly. Something grabbed his roughly from behind, and Sirius felt himself physically thrown to the side with great strength. Looking wildly as he landed, the escaped wizard spotted Harry, back in human form, conjuring great gouts of green flame and other dark spells.

And behind him, towering over the boy was a massive, two headed creature that vaguely resembled a troll of sorts, with bright blue skin and a deadly serious look in its eyes. "Attack for Lord Nobu'tan! For the Order!" it shouted, raising a large staff in one hand and launching a bolt of chaotic magic at the advancing enemy.

And from the beach behind them, Sirius spotted many tears in the fabric of reality opening, and demons spilling out in droves, along with other trolls, some blue, most of them tan and carrying powerful clubs with maddened rage in their eyes.

At last Sirius understood. The troll had tossed him aside to stand beside its lord and probably master. Harry didn't need Sirius to protect him, as he had grown up his own way, and made for himself those things which he lacked.

The hideous creature staggered back from the new onslaught, just in time for powerful roots to explode out of the sand and entangle its legs. Feeling a bit useless, Sirius turned again to see Merlin, eyes ablaze with magic, channeling spells to bind the massive creature and begin dragging it back into the sea.

" _Your kind will not last, one day we will return, and the city of Ny'alotha will be waiting to receive you._ " It cackled even as the creature submerged, presumable being sent back to its sleep under the ocean.

Soon enough the roiling waves calmed and all was as it ought to have been, despite the newfound worry of what truly lay in wait beneath the water.

Sirius wanted to see if Harry was alright, but even before he managed to step toward them, the boy was already leaving with his entourage, vanishing through their portals one by one. "I will await you at the portal of Avalon, to make sure that she is returned from whence she had escaped," Harry called over his shoulder to Albus and Merlin, who nodded, before levitating the defeated and incapacitated Morgan le Faye.

"Come on boy, get a move on, we're not done yet…" Moody said gruffly, nudging Sirius in the legs with his own.

Sirius felt completely dejected, but obeyed, turning away from the sandy beach where the portals of the warlock forces had once been, and followed Moody to where Severus and Albus waited to take them all to the final destination so they could witness the imprisonment of Morgan, and the absolute end of this threat from those beasts beneath the waves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus knew that without the assistance of Nobu'tan, they would not have had the power to subdue the mad witch, but at the same time he was greatly concerned with his presence back here, at the edge of Avalon, while they watched Merlin open a portal between two wildly overgrown trees, which revealed the verdantly emerald land that all Fey came from. The evil witch was sent through first, where a tree of that land embraced her, growing around her like a prison and somehow growing grander from the new occupant with itself.

"It is finished," Merlin said gratefully, "the threat of the Black Empire returning has been thwarted, for the time being."

Albus sent the ancient wizard a small nod. It was not the time for them to turn on Nobu'tan, surrounded by his own guard as he was, but they could now focus with impunity on defeating the boy and stopping the Legion from entering their world.

"So, what is to stop her from awakening in time and returning yet again?" Nobu'tan asked, glancing back at the emerald gateway.

"I will seal the portal behind her. I feel that my time hiding away in the world of endless dreams is finished for now. Perhaps in time I may return, but not for the present century or two." Merlin said.

With that he turned to face the gateway, and begin chanting his own spell, some craft of nature or the elements that would close the wound made by Nobu'tan, and seal it for good. Alas, allowing Dumbledore to have the aid of the Guardian in stopping him from summoning the Legion was not acceptable. He was close enough, and sinisterly his plan formed in his mind in a flash.

Once the portal started to shut on its own, and Merlin started to turn back to them, one hard shove was all it took. Taking the Guardian by surprise, and knocking him from his feet, Nobu'tan used his fel powers to magnify his strength so that the man went headfirst into the closing portal, being draw into the verdant green of Avalon just as his own portal sealed itself.

A surge of Fel magic mixed with the Arcane, and Nobu'tan fashioned his own lock around the location of the gateway, adding further protection to prevent Merlin's return from the other side. Those here couldn't figure it out fast enough to prevent what was to come regardless, so there was no need to worry about that.

"What have you done!" Moody bellowed, launching a sphere of fire at Nobu'tan, but Teg'Ramm was there in a flash to intercept and dispel it. The ogre mage lord towered over the humans, each head keeping a sharp eye on them as Nobu'tan finished his Fel lock.

"I've done what I needed. Our alliance ended when Morgan was returned to Avalon, so why would I allow you to keep your precious Guardian to try and stop me from my own ends?" Nobu'tan stated plainly, smirking at the looks of revulsion on each of them. There was little need to act in the shadows from them now, the only one he feared to face head on was Dumbledore himself, but the grand wizard would not be able to take Nobu'tan and his ogre magi warriors.

"We are leaving. So until the next time we cross wits and sword… for what it was, it was refreshing to fight alongside you as allies for a time, but it was simply not meant to last." He stated, conjuring a portal almost casually, and departed with his ogres. Let them wallow in despair and turmoil at the loss of their powerful elemental mage; it was of little consequence to Nobu'tan.

He would come after them again once he was ready to take the Elder Wand for himself. Until then, it was a time to gather his allies in one location, and prepare the ritual site for his inevitable arrival. The stone circle of Stonehenge was currently under occupation of the muggles, and they would need to be cleared away of the Order of the Black Harvest was to set up a temporary fortress there and prepare the place for the magic required to bring forth the Legion. But if they moved too quickly, before all was gathered short of the wand, then their hand would be tipped, and their enemies would have too many opportunities to formulate a counteroffensive.

"Lucius," Nobu'tan said, summoning the third of the Council, and next ranking member that was present at the astute manor that was their current base of operations, "It is time for us to make ready to take Stonehenge for ourselves…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was horrified at what had happened. For a long while he just stuff there in the clearing after Nobu'tan had departed, trying to fashion in his mind how it was physically possible for the boy to have thrown Merlin through the closing portal to Avalon, and seal it strongly behind the powerful wizard.

So many of his plans had revolved around using the other wizard's greater strength to help incapacitate and defeat Nobu'tan in a direct confrontation.

But now… now they were nearly back at square one. They had a few scraps of the old plan, using the Triwizard tournament to lure Harry back into the open, but without the ability to fight him in a confrontation, direct or otherwise, they had quite a bit ahead of them to riddle out.

Albus normally would have desire to have more time, to formulate a new strategy, but this school year was rapidly drawing to a close, and before he would know it the Goblet of Fire would be in reach, and they had to be ready by the time that happened.

"Alastor, Severus, Sirius…" Albus said slowly as they finally managed to turn the aged Headmaster away from the place of their surprising defeat. "We have to formulate a plan to capture Nobu'tan, before the Triwizard Tournament begins."

"We have some time to get an idea of what to do, and how we can slow down whatever he has planned," Alastor said, but Albus could tell as they prepared to apparate back to the man's home that even the scarred Auror was greatly disturbed.

There was an owl waiting for them when they returned to Alastor's sitting room, bearing a message for Albus as Headmaster. "The writ for allowing you to return to Hogwarts, I presume?" Severus stated as Albus read the missive.

"Indeed, along with Cornelius' personal apology, by which I mean there is none, regarding the lack of evidence that tied Sirius to the school." Albus commented.

"Did they remove the Demenetors?" Sirius asked, trying to look over the Headmaster's shoulder.

"They did, but not because they wanted to. It's growing close to summer and the children want to go outside more and more. Having the Dementors there would make such activities impossible, and with the next year coming, Cornelius wants nothing but his best to show when the other school representatives arrive. Having those horrors flying around wouldn't be the best move on his part, he believes." Albus explained, before summoning what few items he had taken with him.

"Alastor, I must thank you for the hospitality during the past few weeks, and I expect to see and hear from you a great deal in the coming summer…" he paused thinking, "My, it's almost upon us already."

"What do we do regarding the Ministry however, they are likely to return the Dementors to Hogwarts in the coming year?" Severus commented, but it was Sirius that answered before Albus could suggest anything.

"I'll just allow myself to be spotted somewhere far from Hogwarts, before slipping back up here via portkey or something." He said with a shrug.

"That… actually is likely the most efficient means of distracting them…" Severus admitted, to which Albus had to take note in his mind that it was not an option that Severus had considered. Could it be that the pair of once deadly rivals were starting to get accustomed to working together? He wasn't about to hold his breath regarding it, but it was a positive sign.

"Good," Albus said, even as the last of his possessions arrived and packed themselves in a small trunk he had brought. "I fear greatly for what will soon begin to transpire once we start opposing Nobu'tan directly, so I suggest intense training, to make sure all of our skills in the Arcane and even the magic of our people are in top shape, we will need every skill and trick to be able to defeat him without Merlin's aid."

"Perhaps it's time to fully incorporate Granger's faction?" Alastor suggested, but Albus was still hesitant.

"I'd prefer to not involve the children if we can avoid it… but," he sighed, "If you see a need perhaps you are indeed right. Do so, as a special club activity, so that other students are not suspicious, a defense group or something, but because of your well known quirks, you only accept certain students into it."

Alastor actually had the audacity to smile at the thought of using his own paranoia as a tool, "I look forward to it…" he said simply.

With that, Albus nodded, dismissing their meeting, and turned toward the front door of Alastor's home. Once on the threshold, he turned sharply, apparating with a soft popping sound back to the gates of Hogwarts. As he had feared, the Dementors were still present, and the soul-sucking energy that they had immediately started to affect him, until Albus casually slung his Patronus at the horrors. The silvery Fawkes sang a triumphant note as it soared after them, driving the Dementors away from the gates and allowing Albus to pass unmolested.

The first step was ridding his school of these wraiths, and then they could prepare for Nobu'tan.


	41. C40: Strength of the Fel

**A mighty amount of thanks to those who continue to review, you know not how appreciated you are. There is a poll up for the Star Wars fic that I am writing, for those who might be interested but have not yet seen it nor voted in it, just by way of announcement. Otherwise, we press onward, please enjoy. ~F**

 **Chapter Forty**

 **Strength of the Fel**

Deep within the Twisting Nether, upon a foreign world named Nathreza, which had everlasting night seeping down from a sunless sky, the Dreadlord Mephistroth walked the halls of the citadel of the Nathrezim. Underlings scurried after their master, knowing well that his plans were well in motion and to disturb him now was to court certain death.

But alas, the third most powerful of the vampiric demons was being summoned but his one of the two superiors of his own race. And the mighty Tichondrius was not a being to be crossed, even by his fellow Dreadlords.

Much to his bemused surprise, when Mephistroth arrived in the uppermost chamber of the citadel, he found that not only was it Tichondrius who awaited him, but the Nathrezim's second in command, Anetheron, was present as well.

"Brothers…" he said calmly, "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"We ought to be the ones to ask that, Mephistroth," Anetheron retorted, "as it is your little pet warlock down on some backwater planet that is the cause of our meeting."

"Oh, what of the little human?" Mephistroth commented lazily, inwardly growing concerned. He had hoped that such attention to his warlock would have gone unnoticed until much later, when the boy would be of great use to them, but that was dashed already.

"You know our masters want only to invade Azeroth," Tichondrius stated flatly, "why would you allow some pitiful creature the opportunity to open a different world to the Legion, forward thinking though the idea is, it is not what we are commanded to achieve."

"I have a greater use for the human…" the third ranking Dreadlord affirmed. "He may well be our means of invading Azeroth itself, once we take the small detour to burn his pitiful world to cinders."

A deep rumble surged through the tower that was their citadel and archive. Turning, all three Dreadlords paused at the sight of Kil'jaeden's massive projection, hovering in the air just beyond the tower. Clearly the powerful Eredar sorcerer had been spying on them.

"Your pet amuses me Mephistroth, and even though you acted without authority, I am pleased at the progress we have seen in the little thing's attempts to open the pathway to us. I will convince Archimonde to send a force to the world. Once the way had been cleared, and should the boy survive the ordeal of opening a portal large enough for us, he will be rewarded with the opportunity for further glory, in having a hand in preparing the way for our invasion of Azeroth.

Mephistroth couldn't withhold the smirk of pride as he glanced back at his fellow Nathrezim once the illusion of the Deceiver vanished. "I believe there is no further need to criticize my plans now, is there?" he said, much to the displeasure of his superiors, but there was nothing they could do. Mephistroth had received the official go ahead from Kil'jaeden, and the other Nathrezim were forbidden from doing anything that could hinder the work of the Legion.

For his own glory within the Legion, and the opportunity to show up both his superiors in the ranks of the Dreadlords, the priority of one Nobu'tan, the orc-raised human warlock, just became the highest in Mephistroth's sight for the time being.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been so long trapped, unable to act, unable to see or feel the world around him correctly. Lost and alone, without his faithful servants to attend him, the spirit hung lifeless over the forests where he had once secreted part of himself, possessing animals of the forest to do his bidding.

Until now... Fortune had smiled upon him once again, and through acts of fear and cowardice, one of his own had managed to find him at last, and return him to a near form of humanity.

As he was now, in his hated father's house back in the land of his birth, the shadow of malice and hatred swarmed over and around the room he had nearly incapable to leave. Still so frail and weak, he had to rely on a combination of the weak servant and his most loyal pet, who had returned to him the moment he had been returned to this land, and came with all haste to his side.

Curse the boy who had done this to him. His death would be slow and painful, and then every person who had believed in him, who had celebrated his supposed victory would feel the awful sting of defeat, and the utter hopelessness of their folly.

The muggle caretaker of this place had been the first death he had seen in a long time, and it had been more than exciting enough to sate his bloodlust, for the time being at least. But there would be blood in earnest in due time, and his patience had been greatly improved after the years of torment as less than the meanest ghost.

He had a plan, and he suspected that a superior servant would be somewhere, able to act in his stead as the long arm that he needed while the pathetic excuse for a human being would take care of him here, where his form would be safe and away from all potential harm.

Even now the rat was seeking out his servant, whom he had seen in vision, so close to magic as he was. His familiar, the great snake that so loved him, hissed contentedly as it digested the muggle that had discovered them a week back, lying lethargically in front of the fire, allowing the tiny figure in the overlarge armchair to plot and plan in near silence.

Oh yes, his plan would go very smoothly, with no hitches, with the information he had received about the Triwizard tournament. It would prove to be a most revitalizing event, for him at least. The Dark Lord Voldemort would rise again, and Harry Potter would be his first and greatest victim in this endeavor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was irritable, the scar upon his forehead still stinging from the nightmares or vision he had experienced for the last few days. First it had been of some wizards in a village far from him, and somehow he had just known that it had something to do with the man who murdered his biological parents, little that he cared notwithstanding.

But later on it had morphed to something even more sinister. The Dreadlord Mephistroth had returned to him, invading his dreams like a nightmarish shadow, whispering his congratulations at garnering the attention of the mighty Kil'jaeden, one of the great Lords of the Legion, and that they now had the full backing of the Legion, and would be given everything that he might need to make sure he succeeded in his endeavors to bring the Legion to this world.

That alone had truly discontented the warlock more than anything related to the madman Voldemort. Had the Legion truly not been supporting him before, what in the Nether would that have meant if he had succeeded earlier and opened a portal to their worlds, with no clear orders of what was to be done? Would he and his followers have died just as quickly as all others here?

He had done as Morgan had requested, and read the tome she had given him, and yes, he understood why she had betrayed the Legion quite well. The book documented at leave thirty different witches and wizards that had attempted to aid the Legion over this world's long history, throughout many ages of time, and each time they were defeated or betrayed at pivotal moments, by with their fellows or the Legion itself.

Nobu'tan heeded her warning. The Legion could not be trusted, but he had little choice now that their focus was on him fully. He would open their portal, but as soon as he could he would escape to Azeroth and disavow any connection to them, seeking out Gul'dan would be his first priority.

But then, there came the other nagging things that he had learned over the three, nearing four, years that he had spent on this planet. The being of light in the Department of Mysteries had alluded to the notion that Gul'dan might already have been betrayed, or turned traitor to the Legion. Nobu'tan's memory was rather fuzzy of the happenings of that encounter now, despite magical attempts to recall it better.

It seemed as though to get his full answers would require his return to Azeroth, which he was fully intent to pursue regardless. With only one artifact remaining to claim, they were well past the point of no return.

Lucius and Draco, as well as many of the other ex-Death Eaters and their families had gone to a massive Quidditch game, to keep up appearances that there was nothing amiss in their households, while Nobu'tan, Teg'Ramm and the other minions who were not human remained behind at Malfoy Manor, making further preparations and strategizing out means to wrest the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grasp without the need to level the castle around him.

There was always the option of holding the students hostage and threatening their lives in exchange for the wand. Nobu'tan was sure that such a ploy would work, and truly he had little desire to actually harm the innocents of this world, he would allow the Legion that heinous honor.

But still, he knew that the moment he departed with the wand, Albus would pursue him to his dying breath, as Merlin had clearly told him and his people everything they needed to know regarding Nobu'tan and the Legion. Now, while the man lacked knowledge on where they would attempt to open the portal to their world, it wouldn't take a genius like the Headmaster to notice the massive influx of energy once they commenced, and when that happened, Nobu'tan would not be able to defend himself, as all his energy would be trapped ripping open the largest hole in time and space possible.

He had the Order of the Black Harvest, the ogres and their newfound magi, he had the Fel Veela, and there was always the goblins he could potentially call upon, but he felt that there had to be more that he could use to defend himself at the pivotal moment. If even one person got through and disrupted the ritual, Nobu'tan calculated that the magical backlash would kill him and everyone around him, at the least, or split open their world to the core, at the worst.

Not a bright concept, and therefore the driving force that demanded that he have all the protection possible. So, once again he was sending out a horde of Fel charged eyes to seek out potential allies, as well as delving into every aspect of the Nether he could in effort to make absolutely sure he had the best advantage once the inevitable moment came.

He didn't dare venture his eyes too close to Hogwart's castle, as he had already heard from Draco that Dumbledore had retaken his position in the school, and it was highly likely that he was fortifying the castle with arcane magic, just in case Nobu'tan decided to attack directly, which even though the old man wasn't sure of his true objective was still the best maneuver he could possibly make.

However, pulled by curiosity more than anything, Nobu'tan couldn't resist at least seeing what his enemy was up to however, and against his better judgment he sent eyes closer and closer to the Scottish highlands, where the mysterious castle and fortress were hidden.

Soaring over the dark forest, the warlock could see the castle looming over the trees, still as inspiring as when he had first seen it, but shimmering with Arcane magic. It was clear that the man had been busy, making absolutely certain that anything that happened within the walls of the castle would be known by him. A typical move for the old man, as from what Nobu'tan had observed, Albus Dumbledore loved holding all the cards, so he could act and react with impunity.

Movement in the shadowed trees below his vision drew his attention however, and Nobu'tan directed his expanded consciousness through the eyes downward to see what crept in the forest.

Horse-like creature thundered over rocks and low shrubs, hot in pursuit of game, with the upper bodies of full grown men, powerfully built and menacing in their physical strength. They intrigued the warlock. He had not had the pleasure of meeting any of the centaur that lived within the dark forest, although he had sensed their presence easily enough, and knew that they were aware of his power.

Perhaps a mission deep into the territory of his enemy to see if he could persuade these mighty magical creatures to his side would be worth his time.

With the wizarding world so focused on the game that took place far to the south of the castle, it ought to have been a relatively simple matter, if he conserved his Fel powers and relied on the wand-based magic of wizards to protect him in those trees.

He had already dressed in his usual garb of the Grand Warlock and was muttering spells to open a portal to the forest when he started to think of doubts. Dumbledore was already spreading the power of the arcane around the castle grounds, looking for any sign of intrusion. Was it likely that he had also covered the forest in his magic? Was it worth the risk for some race of creatures that would have to be persuaded much like the Fel Veela?

Just as quick as it arrived, Nobu'tan banished the thoughts, as he would love to see the old man's face if he was discovered so close to the castle, and even still, the opportunity to create more allies on his enemy's doorstep was too good to pass up.

It was well known to Nobu'tan, through the other classes in history he had taken at Durmstrang, that centaur hate all things to do with wizards, for the humans seeing them as lesser beings and for the forbiddance of magic use from wands as major contributions to that sentiment.

It was an issue that was easily corrected with the Veela, and could just as easily be gifted to the Centaur, so long as there were those with the capabilities to wield Fel magic, and if there were not, they could be changed much like the ogres, and made into magi of their own right.

Stepping through the portal to the very path that the centaur he had seen were running along in pursuit of their quarry, Nobu'tan started to send out small tendrils of magic to locate their village or central community, if there were more than one concentration of them in this forest.

It seemed to not be the case, as after a minute or two of maintaining the spell, Nobu'tan turned in the opposite direction that the hunters had been going, retracing where they had come from and heading toward the heart of the forest, directly in line with where he detected that their village had to be located.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco hadn't been sure how much he would enjoy Quidditch anymore, after the beginning of his, his father's and their mutual friend's journey into the realms of magical discovery with the knowledge of the Fel arts of the warlock, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that the game was still as intriguing to him as ever, although this world cup final in particular had added benefits that amused him greatly.

Not only was the game very strongly played between Ireland and Bulgaria, but in specific the mascots that the red clad team had procured; Veela. Normally this would be a cause for alarm, as Veela were typically women of great beauty that commanded the lusts of men to do their whims, but these ones were strikingly different, and only those who served under Nobu'tan knew why.

"So that's what Lord Nobu'tan was up to for so long…" Lucius commented quietly as the mascots had filed out.

Draco smirked as he leaned forward for another look. Despite their outward appearances of normalcy for their race, those with the eyes to see through Fel illusions, and with a whispered spell, Draco and Lucius could see straight through to the cruel looking beaks and talons, coupled with the massive green and purple plumage that radiated dark magic, just waiting to burst into flames at the slightest offense.

That was going to prove to be the most interesting thing about the game, despite the fact that the flying was superb and the competition intense, and Draco was proven right in time. Constantly he had his eyes drawn back to the ground to see what the Fel creatures were planning, and while the Leprechauns that the Irish had brought were doing their best to infuriate the Veela, they were more than preoccupied trying to lull the referee into a state of uselessness, although to Draco's trained eyes he spotted that they were attempting to siphon his soul from his body rather than cheat for their team.

It didn't stop the foolish man from Egypt attempting to have them sent off the field, which served as the final straw for the creatures. Draco wasn't sure why they were so ready to fly into a rage, possibly the terms that they accepted to even be here in the first place, but in a flash they were fully revealed as what they were, fel flames leaping from their hands as they charged across the field, setting everything they could alight with a crimson gleam in their eyes.

The lower stands went into a panic from the mad rampage of the creatures, but Draco was not worried, not only were they too high for the Veela to get at them, but his powers of the Fel would be protection enough from their magic.

"I believe that we must depart before things get too out of hand," Lucius said, also glancing down at the mayhem, "I trust that they are intelligent enough to get themselves out of this and return to their lives without inciting too much of Lord Nobu'tan's wrath…"

Narcissa rose gracefully then, leading her family as they departed the Minister's box, much to the surprise of Cornelius, who was looking between the Bulgarian Minister, and the other occupants of the box for someone to tell him what to do, which for some reason had included the Weasley family, but neither of the Malfoy men even paid the red headed family a moment of thought.

There was far too much to prepare now for them to be concerned with the blood traitors, or what they would have once considered blood traitors. For Draco at least, magic was magic at this point, and whether it came from a muggleborn or a pureblood it was irrelevant, it was the extra skills of their internal power that gave them an edge over pure Arcane or Fel wielders.

The three Malfoys returned to their luxurious tent that had been placed in one of the prime locations, awaiting the end of the game so that they could potentially slip away in the midst of the celebratory crowd, regardless of who had won. Draco was sure that he would hear the blow by blow for the rest of the game at least a hundred times on the way back to Hogwarts, so he wasn't concerned. It was more important that they not be in the same place as rampaging Fel creatures, just in case some of Dumbledore's lot tried to make the connection.

They had been prepared to wait for days, as these World Cup matches were wont to do, but Draco was surprised when a torrent of screaming came from the nearby stadium, and fireworks shot into the air in grandeur. "Well, that was a quick final match…" he commented aloud.

"Yes, and complicates our plans a touch," Lucius added, watching from the doorway of the tent with his son, "We'll have to wait at least a day before departing, as it would be suspicious to not be among the common spectators for a short time after the match, and most would be exhausted from the highlights of the match."

And so they had waited, watching the sun set slowly over the trees as parties sprung up from the green covered sea of tents, celebrating the Irish victory over Bulgaria, but at the same time Draco had heard that the red clad seeker, Victor Krum, had actually caught the Snitch, and so there was cause for celebration in those tents loyal to them as well.

All seemed to be as it once was for a time, like the old days before Draco went to Hogwarts and found out the secrets of Nobu'tan, just sitting there in from of a nice fire with his parents, enjoying the aftermath of a good match of Quidditch, when Lucius hissed unexpectedly, reaching out to grasp his left forearm.

Narcissa looked shocked and afraid at the motion, something that Draco had never seen on his mother's face before. "What is it?" he asked quickly, knowing that with their power he could burn away any sort of sore or disease with careful application.

"He is returning…" Lucius said, glancing first at his wife, who darted inside to fetch something, an ointment presumable, before Lucius turned to look at his son, pain in his eyes. "The Dark Lord is trying to rise again; I can sense it through the Mark…"

Draco's eyes widened. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was returning? "So, what does that mean for the Order of the Black Harvest?" he asked after several long minutes of silence, in which Draco's mother returned and wrapped a sopping wet bandage over Lucius arm, clearly treated with something that dulled the burning pain that the old mark was clearly inflicting on him.

"It means," Lucius said after straightening himself and glancing about to make sure none had overheard or seen something, "that we must stay closer to Lord Nobu'tan than ever, as the Dark Lord will stop at nothing to destroy him, and given the option of the Legion or that man taking control of our lives again, I would gladly take the demonic invasion."

"I will not allow that man to torment our family again," Draco said boldly, balling his hands into fists. "I'll have my demons rip him limb from limb first."

"You might have to get in line for that, young Lord Malfoy," said another voice, and the three turned to see Nott Sr. enter the firelight, rubbing his own forearm as Theodore followed close behind, moving to stand beside Draco, "I doubt that any of us have a better claim to slay that man than Lord Nobu'tan himself."

"This is true, however if it came down to it," Draco countered, but before he could say much more, a spell flared up into the air from the other side of the campgrounds. Vivid and green, the looming skull with a snake for a tongue froze all those who recognized it, the ex-Death Eaters included.

"We've got to leave; now… before the Aurors show up and ask unwanted questions…" Lucius said quickly, as the massive crowd started to panic at the sight of the Dark Lord's mark in the sky, a symbol of murder committed at the sight of its appearance.

The others scattered, returning to their own tents and gathering all their possessions rapidly. With a wave of his wand, Lucius had their tent packed and ready to depart within moments, and held tightly to his wife and son as he murmured their emergency Portkey's command phrase, which returned them in a whirl of color to the safe room of Malfoy Manor.

Draco knew that they would be safe here, as not only were there powerful wards protecting the manor, and this room in particular, overcharged now by the magic of the Fel, but the sheer bulk of demons and other creatures would deter even the mightiest of forces from attacking, but this was a lesser concern to him than the whereabouts of Nobu'tan.

"I sense that he had used portal magic recently, and is out and about somewhere," Lucius stated, able to feel the ambient magic in and around his home with ease, as Lord of the Manor.

Narcissa departed to make sure that everything was accounted for, and the two warlocks sought out confirmation that their allies were also safe. Several Floo calls later and they breathed far easier. None of their number had been accosted or admitted participation in summoning the Dark Mark, indeed they had all derided even the notion that they would return to that man's service after all they had seen and learned.

This was good news for them, but still the threat that someone had conjured the mark, and only a Death Eater knew the secret incantation for it, meant that there was someone outside their Order that had done so, or they had a traitor.

"Do you believe we could be betrayed so close to our victory?" Draco asked his father as they meandered down to the training room, seeking out any possible discrepancies in their defenses, just in case.

"I doubt that it has happened, but even we Ex-Death Eaters hold close to Alastor Moody's adage of constant vigilance." His father replied, "I suggest you learn as much as you can from the man when he takes over the Defense position… you know, between bouts of him trying to interrogate you and the others regarding Lord Nobu'tan."

Draco smirked, the small amount of levity making the entire situation feel much better all of a sudden. "I just wish we knew where Nobu'tan was right now." Lucius continued, becoming thoughtful and pensive.

"He'll be safe," Draco affirmed, recalling their mutual mentor's personal tastes, "He wouldn't go within fifty miles of a Quidditch stadium after what happened the last time he went to a game…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor was not in the best of moods. It seemed that, once he had been recalled from retirement, all hopes at returning to it were utterly dashed from moment to moment. Striding through the charred grass of the ruined campsite surrounding the World Cup Stadium, the old Auror tried to make sense of the stupidity of the wizarding public.

Someone, an old Death Eater no doubt, had shot the Dark Mark into the sky, an act of terror that had set of the chain reaction of panic that transformed into a riot as thousands of people, British wizards and foreigners alike, stampeding for the nearest exit points, fleeing by apparition or portkey, and leading to countless injuries via trampling. Mercifully there had been no deaths, the heartiness of wizards allowing them to survive such injuries with ease.

Still, it had been a potentially deadly scenario, and the perpetrator was still nowhere to be found, seemingly having disappeared into the night. Alastor had in the back of his mind the usual suspect list, but somehow it didn't seem to fit the bill anymore. If Lucius and his cohorts were backing Potter, why would any of them want to draw attention back to Voldemort at all...?

Possibly as a ruse so that the wizarding world placed their guard in the wrong place, allowing them to sneak in and do whatever damage they desired. If so, than they would need to do much more than this, as although panicked and jumpy, this was less than what it took to send the entirety of wizarding Britain into an uproar.

No, it felt right to believe that this was a new, third party, who might still be completely loyal to the fallen Dark Lord, and either cast the mark for his own reasons. Indeed this part might even be altogether ignorant of the entirety of 'Nobu'tan' and his people.

Truly, what had interested Alastor the most when he came here were the reports of the vile and demonic Veela that had attack the referee during the match, and he had spent a great deal of time within the stadium, taking note of the various traces of Fel magic therein, wondering just how it was Nobu'tan got his claws into such beings as Veela, and what his purpose for them would be in the end.

The particular clan had vanished immediately following the game, and although Aurors were sent to their normal residential lands, Alastor felt that they would not be found there. This particular plot, at least, screamed of Potter and his demonic masters. The boy was gearing up for something big, and the aged Auror did not like the looks of it one bit.

Returning to the matter at hand however, much as he would prefer to rather return to Albus and report these Fel Veela, Alastor started to follow the trace amount of magic that was attached to and holding the mark suspended in the air.

The tethers led down to a small knot of trees at the very edge of the forests where the Department of Magical Games and Sports had decided to host the match, and seemed to end there. Quickly searching the spot where the spell had apparently been cast from, Alastor sensed no sign of the presence of Fel magic, which unfortunately limited his selections of suspects, indeed removing all those who were associated with Nobu'tan.

He, Albus and Severus had noticed that even the spells they cast with the wands now carried hints of the Arcane in them, and he was certain that it would be the same for the warlocks, even if that cleared any of them from wrongdoing in this general instance.

No, it was some sort of independent, or perhaps an initiate to the warlocks that had not been given the Fel gift yet. Looking down along the ground, Alastor immediately spotted something else out of place in the small wooded spot. A house elf, sprawled in the grass, quite dead.

Clearly not the intended target for the Dark Mark, although they had not as of yet found any human victim, nevertheless Alastor recognized the elf as belonging to Bartemius Crouch, Head of International Magical Cooperation. Apparently the man had not actually come to the game himself, despite being one of the founding persons behind sponsoring the event being held here in Britain.

But then why would his house elf have been found here, and dead no less? It led to a great deal more questions, and Alastor was sure that there were no more answers to be found here. Leaving his findings with the next most senior Auror, Alastor took his leave, preferring to go back to Hogwarts first, rather than deal with prim and proper Crouch. He'd leave that glorious task to someone with more patience and less sense.

Albus seemed to grow more eager as Alastor entered his office, "I'm starting to get tired of climbing all those stairs every time I need to report something," Alastor commented offhandedly, but the Headmaster shrugged, clearly unable to rebuild all of Hogwarts for the aged Auror's needs in a heartbeat.

"There were Veela at the Quidditch World Cup…" he added, looking around for where Albus hid his liquor.

"Not surprising, as the Bulgarians were playing," Albus replied, waiting for Alastor to finish a small glass of Firewhiskey, Albus' private stores being one of the few outside drinks Alastor felt that he could trust, even if he did have over half a dozen antidotes on him at all times, just in case.

"They were corrupted by Fel magic," Alastor added between drinks, which wrought a massive change in Albus. The man sat forward, more than desirous to hear every detail regarding Nobu'tan and his minions.

"I am led to believe that they were affected by the power that Nobu'tan himself possesses, but how I cannot say, or when. Reports indicate that they were quite transformed from what typical angry Veela appear like, with green and violet plumage rather than the typical red. More than that, I do not know, as the clan has all but vanished."

"Probably retreated back to Nobu'tan's side once they realized that they could not operate in normal society any longer," Albus suggested, "He is gathering allies, for what purpose I do not know for certain, to besiege Hogwart's itself? Or to pave the way for the Legion?"

Alastor was about to answer, when together both he and Albus turned and looked out the widow toward the forest. They had both clearly sensed the dark taint of Fel magic being used in those trees. "I can sense Nobu'tan's presence," Albus stated, and they rose together, fully intent on investigating why the warlock dared to approach the castle during the summer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan found the centaur village easily enough, but he was disappointed to find that it was quite small, and most of the creatures seemed to want nothing to do with him, even if their courage was to be commended.

"We smell your stink of dark magic, foal," a large black centaur said, striding forward with a proud stance, bow in hand, "and we will have nothing to do with it or your desires. The stars have show us what you intend, and death awaits all those who follow your banner."

Nobu'tan studied the rest of the village quietly, ignoring the ravings of the beast before him. He could simply kill the naysayer and see of that changed their tune, but at the same time the warlock could see that many others were skillfully attempting to conceal weapons from his sight, and would likely attempt to slay him if they felt threatened.

"Ah, but I've come to give you all gifts…" he said slowly, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence and bowing slightly, "Nothing more or less. Please, at least allow me to present them before turning me away."

The black creature that must have been the clan's leader stamped a hoof once, "We do not trust in the gifts of humans," he spat back, but Nobu'tan was already slowly conjuring, summoning the same basin of Fel Blood that the Veela had partaken in.

"Then you will be pleased that this gift comes not from me, but from another nonhuman," the warlock said knowingly, producing the same chalice of bone, etched with demonic runes along the brim.

"I come on behest of my masters to present you the power to throw off the oppression of humans forever, and the strength to take back lands that they stole from you. All you must do is drink…" he said, slowly dipping the cup in the green pool of blood and offering it, still dripping, to the large leader.

He knew that the beast before him would likely refuse, but there was always the chance that something could happen to forestall that event. "We are neutral in your war, human, and want nothing to do with whatever dark powers you claim to be gifting us… We refuse to become slaves to anyone or anything, and no gift is freely given." The centaur said boldly, straightening to its full height and glaring down at the warlock.

"If you weren't a foal yourself, we would slay you for the insolence you have shown, but your youth and ignorance is to be expected, and therefore I demand that you leave our village and never return, or you will forfeit those protections completely." He added, fingering the bowstring in his hands, and Nobu'tan knew a lost cause when he saw one. Banishing the well of Fel blood with a wave of his hand, the warlock smirked slightly as he turned away slowly, "Just remember that my offer stands the next time wizards come to trample on your liberties and rights…" he added casually, as though an afterthought, and walked calmly from the village.

He could feel eyes watching him, and not only the anger filled ones of the leader. Nobu'tan had sparked interest in at least some to throw off the shackles with which their tribe was bound, and perhaps in time they would seek him out, once he was past the lines of their village and well into the free realm of the forest, where any could approach him without fear.

This was why the warlock delayed his return to Malfoy Manor via portal, wandering the woods at a leisurely pace, just waiting and watching, sensing the moment that other creatures came near.

"You might as well come out now, centaurs, I sense you…" Nobu'tan said softly, turning in the vague direction that he sensed their presence. A small group of centaur, around six in total, partially stepped from the surrounding trees and undergrowth, weapons drawn and neither loaded nor aimed at the warlock. Their leader, a large brave with red hair and coloration stepped forward to speak on their behalf.

"I am Edgran, and I speak for those who have come." He said formally, and Nobu'tan waved a hand for him to approach.

"What is it you wish to speak with me regarding, young centaur," he replied, wisely noticing the youth of these half dozen when compared to the relative age of the leader.

"We want to know more of your offer, and what power you wish to give to us centaur to throw off our oppressors. We refuse to be so close-minded as to think that only centaurs are worth trusting, there has to be some other beings of honor out in this wide world, even if the stars foretell dread and doom around all outsiders." The red haired centaur said, not lacking in bitterness as he spoke.

Nobu'tan grinned, and summoned the plinth with the Fel blood once more, watching their eyes as they turned to look at the bubbling green sludge that was the blood of a Pit Lord. "I offer you the chance to become conquerors, to grow in size and power where the spells of these wizards will reflect off your hides without effort. The powers of the Fel will grant you untold abilities, and your strength will be magnified at least ten-fold."

"And what is the price of this power?" another centaur, female this time, said from back in the trees.

Nobu'tan smirked; he loved answering this question, as the reaction was always varied and amusing. "Everything…" he said solemnly, doing nothing to hide the blunt truth that they would be signing over one master for another. One would have thought that would be enough to dissuade many, but from his personal experience, by this point in the conversation, it didn't matter what Nobu'tan said, as the creature or person was already thinking of what they could do with the power, and that they _needed_ it, regardless of whatever price it required, and never bothered to stop and listen to his one completely truthful statement.

The smirk widened as Edgran stepped forward, and Nobu'tan produced the horn-carved cup once more, dipping it and withdrawing some of the blood, "Drink, and become a powerful leader of your people, Edgran of the Centaur…"

The lust for power was clear in the creature's eyes, and the recognition of being as great as the horse-man thought he was in his own mind was plain to see, and he took the cup from Nobu'tan.

The warlock was vaguely aware as the centaur drank that they were being observed, but it was too late for him to withdraw safely at this point, not when there were more servants to be had, and one in the process of changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was horrified at what he was seeing. Nobu'tan was indeed in the dark forest, speaking with a small group of young centaur, and had just offered something from a green glowing font of Fel magic to one of them, which took what appeared to be a chalice of some sorts from the warlock's hand and drank deeply from it.

At the same time that the centaur returned the cup, Nobu'tan turned to look straight at them, smirking wide as the centaur dropped to his knees in pain, mutely screaming as the Fel energy took control. Dipping the cup again, Nobu'tan held it aloft for another to take from him, and the others stepped forward, eager to participate as the first started to mutate horrifically.

"No, we cannot allow this!" Albus said, stepping forward into the small clearing.

"Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore, how nice of you to come and witness the ascent of my newest allies…" Nobu'tan said calmly as he appeared, even as a fourth centaur out of six took the offered chalice.

"Nobu'tan, you are not welcome this close to Hogwarts," Albus said sternly, drawing the Elder Wand, its tip crackling with energy in desire to be used for violence. "I must demand that you leave this place immediately."

The last of the centaur was already writhing on the ground, even as the first two were looking each other over, seeing the new greenish skin and Fel spikes and horns that had grown in strange places. "I come and go as I please, Albus, and you would do well to remember that," Nobu'tan said defiantly, looking back with a crimson gleam in his challenging eyes. "That is… unless you wish to do something about it and stop me?"


	42. C41: Reconsideration

**Merry belated Christmas everyone, and naturally the site's present is that the upload system was down, so posting was absolutely impossible yesterday! Yay? Still, making sure that you get you chapter for the week as soon as I could, and so, here is the next installment of Stormreaver! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty One**

 **Reconsideration**

Severus was only just ascending from the dungeons when he spotted the flash of magic over the forest. Arcane and Fel magic erupted in massive gouts over the trees; indiscernible to anyone who lacked the training of those magic types, but for Severus specifically he recognized the patterns of spells quite easily. How on earth Potter had gotten so close undetected he did not know, but that Albus and Moody were fighting him directly had Severus swearing up a storm as he bolted for the door out to the grounds, his robes snapping around him as he ran.

The old fools didn't even bother to get him for backup. They knew how dangerous the boy could be, and yet they still went to confront him on their own. Tree branches whipped by as Severus tore into the undergrowth of the forest, some slashing at his face as he plunged in without care of what he may discover. Icy was already forming in his wake, as he called upon his arcane power to come to his aid, ready to unleash a snowstorm once he spotted the infernal child.

The final layer of growth was charred away even as Severus approached, directly into the middle of a conflict between the three powerful spell casters. Where Potter had come from, Severus had no idea, nor what he was doing here, but he was fighting viciously, one hand channeling Fel fire while the other summoned demon after demon to launch at the pair of opponents he faced.

The two old wizards were holding their own, but only barely, as somehow Potter could sling spells at each of them simultaneously, while they had to focus their efforts to attempt to pin the elusive warlock down and strike his magical protections.

Throwing an orb of magic into the air, Severus caused massive chunks of snow and ice to rain down, creating a localized blizzard around the warlock, hoping to slow his agility and allow the others to land a hit of significance on him. Potter spared Severus only a glance of contempt before countering the spell with large gouts of demonic flames, which melted the magical ice rapidly and caused steam to pour into the air.

"It is already too late…" Nobu'tan said in a smug voice to Albus specifically, "they are already gone back to their own village, and soon enough the entire tribe will belong to the Legion."

All three wizards refused to be distracted, launching their most powerful spells at the warlock. Fire, Frost and Arcane slammed heavily into the shield that Nobu'tan threw up around him, clawing madly to reach him within it, but the warlock merely laughed as he backed away, a sweep of his hand conjuring another of his blasted portals.

Unwilling to let the boy just get away again, Severus flung another barrage of frost at him, before stealthily slipping a shard of ice right after. A wall of flames leapt up to consume the initial attack, but the crystalline shard flew true, just as the defensive magic faded, and struck home, staining the boy's robe with blood as he howled in agony.

The portal closed however, and they were unable to detect where the boy had vanished. "Albus…" Moody said hurriedly.

"I know Alastor, we must make haste to the centaur village," Albus replied, before moving swiftly deeper into the trees.

Severus hadn't a clue what they were referring to, but went with the two old wizards, just in case something else was loose in the forest and his power was needed to combat it.

Soon enough they all appeared on the edge of the centaur grounds, deep in the forest where the magical race had made their refuge, but whatever peace they had hoped to find here was clearly gone, as homes burned and deep hoof prints marred the grassy clearing.

What puzzled even Severus was that some of the hoof prints seemed to burn with Fel fire… then it hit him, and he stared up at the others with shock at the realization, "he transformed some of the centaur into demonic creatures?"

"Alas, he did, and what they have done with the rest of their tribe, I do not know." Albus affirmed, still looking swiftly for any sign of where they had gone. "I can sense something dark moving deeper into the forest, but I do not know if we ought to follow."

"If the centaur tribe was driven out of their village, then the last thing we want to do is show up unannounced. They are just as likely to attack us as any other." Severus added wisely.

"Unfortunately, I agree with Snape," Moody said, "We have to leave it to them to survive now. We at least drove off Potter, so that will help them survive a bit longer, and we'll search for them later on when they, hopefully, won't be hostile to anyone approaching."

Albus was less than pleased about the events, Severus could tell just by looking at the old man, but he had to know that they were right, as he sighed and nodded, and the three mages started back to the castle. Severus almost thought he felt a small surge of Fel magic far away somewhere, but it seemed far too distant for them to investigate, and if it was Potter, hopefully that wound he had received was enough to slow him for a while. Even with magic, a day or two at the most would be needed to heal it properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan grunted in pain as he stumbled out of the portal at the far edge of the forest, where he was to meet his new servants, as they led their herd toward him. Curse Snape and his accuracy. The shard of ice had quickly melted, leaving the wound gaping and painful.

Snarling in pain and anger, Nobu'tan spotted a few small animals nearby, and latched onto them with Fel energy, quickly draining their life energy to heal himself. It wasn't enough to do the job properly, but it would tide him over until he returned to the safety of Malfoy Manor and could treat it fully. But he had limited options when he could already sense the centaur being driven toward him by his new servants.

Conjuring the plinths once again, the bone carved goblet hovering over it, Nobu'tan stood casually at the edge of the forest, just outside where the Centaur were allowed to go by Ministry regulation, just as the first of the herd appeared, skidding to a halt just within their allotted boundaries.

"Well, well," Nobu'tan said casually, concealing the small blood stains from his previous encounter with the wizards, "Here we are again, you cowering in fear of your wizard oppressors… and me here, offering the gift to break off your shackles…"

"And we have told you our answer!" the massive leader said again, stomping forward, bow drawn and aimed between the warlock's eyes. "Now be gone from here, or we'll attack."

Nobu'tan smirked wickedly, "I see that there is at least one obstacle I can help you overcome in this decision," he said slowly, before striking like a viper, lashing out with Fel magic and ducking to the side to avoid the arrow as it discharged. The leader cried out in agony as he was bodily lifted into the air by the Fel magic, it draining his vitality away in agonizing slowness, feeding back into Nobu'tan and healing his injury properly, as well as strengthening him from the powerful essence of the creature.

Edgran and his group of Fel Centaur appeared from the far side of the grove, leaving the forest to stand with Nobu'tan as he killed their old chieftain. "As you see, you old fool," Nobu'tan said as the leader slowly died, watching his former tribesmen, "some of your people thought differently, as will they all if they wish to survive the coming storm. Neutrality only works when there are those who honor it, and the Burning Legion is not one of them. You will join me, or die alongside the humans who oppose my masters."

Turning his attention back to the shocked and horrified herd, he raised his voice, "All those who wish to survive the coming war, come and drink, free yourselves from your fear of the humans, and become unstoppable beings of power, and join with your future leader Edgran. Afterward I will deliver you all to a new home, where you can run free and do as you please until called upon to pay in full for this gift."

There was much hesitation, until after a powerful stamp of the hoof from Edgran, several of the younger males cautiously stepped forward, crossing the boundary of the forest. Nobu'tan held aloft the chalice for the first to take, and grinned as the centaur pressed its rim to his lips. Snatching it back before the Fel magic took hold, he presented it to the next, and the next, continuing until all those who willingly would partake came forward. Most of the males, and a few of the females had done so, but the young children, the elderly, and a few other holdouts had remained.

"I will permit those too young and too old, as well as you lot who will take care of the needs of the tribe to take care of them to remain unchanged, for now," Nobu'tan said, mercifully, turning to conjure a new portal to the wide ranges of land that the Malfoy's owned, "Now come to your new homes a vast forest that is yours to dominate, aside from the wizard home that I use as my base of operations."

Edgran, too self empowered at being the new chieftain of his clan to disagree with the warlock, led his people through the vortex, and onto the private lands of House Malfoy, taking in the air of a new home, and tail lashing with the unexpected warmth of the area, further south than the castle. After the last passed through, Nobu'tan dispelled the font of Fel power, and allowed the leader one last look at his departing tribe, smirking widely as he ended the black centaur's life, and departed to assist situating his newest asset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius watched from a window of his Manor as some Fel magic blossomed into being outside his estate, and he watched with minor curiosity as a massive, green centaur stepped into the lush forests that hid his manor from prying eyes, followed by another and another, until an entire herd of the creatures had moved in to his literal backyard. What didn't surprise him was the rearmost figure of Lord Nobu'tan appearing, gesturing to the lead Centaur and offering the horse-man some trinket or another, probably to be able to communicate over long distances with the herd, before allowing them to run free into the forest.

Turning from his study window and making his way down to the front entrance, Lucius met Nobu'tan on the latter's way inside. "So I see you've made a newer acquisition after even the Fel Veela…" he commented dryly.

Nobu'tan just looked at him, and Lucius caught a glimpse of something dried on the boy's robes. Was it blood? "There is nothing wrong with having a varied number of servants and allies, isn't there Lucius? If we are to pave the way for the Legion and then make our own way to Azeroth, then we will need all the power at our disposal that we can get. Ogres, Veela, Goblins and Centaur would make powerful tools for taming any wilderness that we encounter, would it not?"

Lucius paused. Goblins? Since when had those bankers pledged themselves to the warlock's aid?

"That reminds me, I will need to visit them again, as I ought to give some of them the gift of learning the Fel magic, so that they are prepared for when we make our advent from this world at long last…" Nobu'tan commented, "Although with the new Hogwarts year starting soon, that might prove difficult to slip in unnoticed…"

"…or would it make it easier, if you posed as just another student?" Lucius countered, and the boy warlock turned, smirking at Lucius.

"Perhaps you are right…" he admitted, pausing as he walked and looking down at the pocket of his robes. From within Nobu'tan pulled a small, fractured shard of purplish energy, seeming to glow with its own light and vibrating. "Odd, it seemed to be activating…" the warlock said.

"What is it? And what does that mean, activating?" Lucius said, stepping closer to see. The gem was rather intricate, seeming to have portions mission, but otherwise being perfectly whole.

"It is a fragment of Soul energy, crystallized for my own use… but I believe another vessel of its mother soul has awoken, and I may need to postpone the trip to Gringotts to find it."

And with that, the boy turned and walked away, heading toward his own room, leaving Lucius with many more questions and little answers to those he had had in the beginning.

Soon enough Lucius sensed the small flux of power as the boy warlock sent out his magical probes in the shape of literal eyes to scour the country for whatever item was calling to him, and Lucius knew that he wouldn't be receiving any answers for the time being. So he returned to his study, and the project he had taken up in the meantime while waiting for their move against Dumbledore and the Elder Wand.

It had begun as a mere attempt to discover who had released the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World cup weeks ago, but recently, something else had occurred that greatly disturbed the Malfoy Lord. His old mark, the one that he had received during the height of the Dark Lord's power, had burned fiercely, much as it used to when the man was angered or passionately killing. In either case this worried Lucius greatly. He would never admit it, especially not to others in the Order, but the return of the Dark Lord was something he greatly feared above all else. If the man returned to full power, Lucius wasn't sure whether the other former Death Eaters would have much of a choice whether to return to his side or not, and with them claiming Potter as their leader, that would be grounds for immediate death.

So, to preserve both himself and all that the Order of the Black Harvest hoped to build, Lucius was looking into every avenue that could possibly indicate that the man was on the move again. Unfortunately, the process was going extremely slow, even when aided by the magic of the Fel. Either the Dark Lord was far away from where they currently were, or else he was using such a low amount of magic that it wasn't registering in comparison to other sources in the area.

Nevertheless, Lucius was going to keep searching, as any sign of the Dark Lord's return was more of a warning than the man would allow them to receive, and the more time that the Black Harvest had to prepare for the madman's return the better.

The real question that Lucius had was which of the current or former Death Eaters, if any of them, was assisting the Dark Lord recover. He believed this to be the case, despite no proof, because the burning sensation from the mark was significantly weaker than he remembered, and that implied that the Dark Lord's power was not at the level it used to be.

From what he knew about the Dark Lord, this would not be acceptable, which would indicate that he was in a state of recovery, probably from whatever occurred nearly fourteen years previously when he attacked the Potter household that Halloween night.

It wasn't much of a deduction, but then again there weren't many leads, but Lucius did not intend to give up so easily. He would find the proof he needed, and together the Order of the Black Harvest would decide on how to deal with the return of the Dark Lord, if that unfortunate event was the case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius would never have believed that he would be returning to his family's home, but after escaping Azkaban prison a great number of impossible things had occurred, so at this point it did not faze him any longer. He still could have done without the three hours of screaming that his mother's portrait had gone through upon seeing him.

Apparently, through some unfathomable loophole of wills, the head of the family had ignored Walburga's demands to excise Sirius from his inheritance, which had left him as the sole person to gain all the Black family wealth, with the disappearance of his younger brother and the deaths of his parents.

Still, for a place to hide out where no one would look for him aside from those who knew he was here, there couldn't be a better place. The Ministry couldn't come calling, and the ward deterred any other unexpected visitors, courtesy of the rather paranoid generation previous to Sirius, who had enjoyed their privacy as much as their dark artifacts.

That was the first objective that Sirius had upon being more or less force to claim the house as his own, making it livable for the Order of the Phoenix to hold meetings in, as well as the four mages to practice their arts in the hopes of preparing the way to stop the Burning Legion from rampaging over their world.

Sirius was still having a hard enough time coming to terms with Harry, the little boy he had played with and changed the diaper of, being some powerful Dark Arts user, but it was slowly settling into perspective as reality, despite every fiber of his being screaming that it ought not to be so.

All these combined to put Sirius in quite a sour mood, even as he was cleaning and throwing out as much of his parents old things as possible, despite the actions of the family house elf, Kreacher, and the vile things constant attempts to protect the family valuables, or as Sirius considered them, useless trinkets.

So frustrated Sirius became over the madness of the elf that at one point he had to bodily throw the little beast from the room he was in, bellowing at him to take the treasures that the elf so valued and place it with the masters he loved so much, as only the dead would still care about such worthless junk.

Not a short time after that, Sirius lost heart at the battle against the house for a time, and wandered back down to the kitchen, which was the only section of sanity in the entire house at the time.

Mercifully, Albus had made sure that food was readily available from the Hogwart's kitchens for Sirius, so he didn't have to rely on Kreacher for food as well as the little imp's perverse sense of 'cleaning.'

Looking at a small pinup of a muggle calendar, Sirius sighed in relief. Today was the day someone was to come and visit with him. Of the three options, Sirius hoped that it was Albus, as he always enjoyed when the grandfatherly old man would come and fill him in on what was going on outside of this awful house.

Granted, the elderly Headmaster was usually very busy, and had come recently, which probably ruled out a second appearance for some time yet. Sirius still held out hope that at least Moody would come, some high spirited dueling intermixed with blasting the dark creatures from this house would do him a world of good as well, but once the appointed person arrived, and walked calmly and purposefully through the hall upstairs from the kitchen, Sirius knew that it was not to be the case.

Snape glided through the entry to the kitchen, looking for all the world like an overlarge bat, but Sirius forced himself not to comment. He technically owed the man for finally filling him in on all that had been going on, which had prompted Albus to include him more thoroughly in their secret workings to stop this demonic Legion, and while Sirius and Snape were still at odds half the time, they tried to maintain a rather strained neutrality when in the company of the others.

"Albus and Alastor were both busy I presume?" Sirius said, therefore, knowing that the other man usually had a plethora of other things he had to be doing as well, and had these tasks forced upon him more often than he liked.

"What the two of them get up to is none of our concern at the moment Black," Snape sneered back, although it was lighter than usual, as though the man recognized the intent to which Sirius had spoken of, and in his own way appreciated the concern, however small.

"Well, I guess we'll have to make the best of each other's company for the time being then," Sirius said, standing and stretching. "Shall we take out some of our age old aggression upon each other, or the pests of this house instead?"

There was the tiniest quiver of a smile on the Potions Master's face, almost amused by the bluntness of the remark, but otherwise he remained impassive, "I am here to give you better control over your power in the Arcane, clean this dreadful domicile or Merlin help us, repair your mind and teach you advanced Occlumency…"

"Pass on the third," Sirius said immediately, neither wanting the man near his thoughts nor wanting to listen to the bile that would come forth afterward. From the Slytherin smirk Sirius knew that Snape had had no intentions of doing that regardless of what Sirius had said, but that was fine.

"And as I've already been cleaning for the last several hours," Sirius ignored the unimpressed look that Snape gave him at that statement, "I think we'd both prefer the duel, get a bit of the animosity out of our systems as it were…"

Snape nodded, still unmoving from the doorway of the kitchen, "Is there another location that it tolerable enough for human habitation, or will we be practicing in here?"

"Yes, the second dueling room was cleaned out when I first arrived with Moody, so we can use that room to deal with your issues…" Sirius deadpanned back, watching with mirth as Snape registered that there were two dueling rooms in this house.

Chuckling, Sirius walked past Snape to lead the way, almost creeping past the portrait of his mother, behind it vile, moth-eaten, curtains, and up to the third of the five or so floors of Grimmauld Place. Expansion Charms being what they were, it was no real surprise that the house was significantly larger than what was portrayed outside.

The smaller dueling room, still the size of a standard ballroom, and usually doubling for such a location back in the heyday of his parents, contained several items that Moody had brought with him, dummies primarily, that were reinforced to stand up to the power of Arcane spells, as well as some other items that were for precision work and aiming that Sirius had yet to focus on, still trying to completely wrap his head around the lack of a wand when he cast.

By no means was he a slough at this, of course, he was doing just fine in his progression, the lack of the implement was still disconcerting whenever he focused the magic however, like being partially naked.

Looking over at Snape, who's fingers were already starting to frost over in his preparations for hurling ice magic, Sirius could tell that the man was completely comfortable with the concept, and that he ought to learn to adapt far quicker than he currently was if he was to catch up to the other wizards in their studies of this new magic.

To open up therefore, Sirius conjured a ball of flame, and tossed it lightly from hand to hand to get comfortable with the magic, also hoping to lightly wear on Snape's patience, which ought to have already been at the breaking point just by being in Sirius' family home.

"Will you stop playing, Black, and get a move on, some of us have things to…" Snape started, but at that moment was when Sirius struck, hurling the fireball at the man with all his might, before recoiled and conjuring another pair to follow the first.

To his credit, Snape had fast reflexes, ducking out of the way of the first and snapping up a shield of frozen air to absorb the others. Bolts of frost and some shards of ice were returned in quick succession, and Sirius leapt and dodged, making sure to avoid the more razor-like ice shards than the other, less painful looking, frost missiles.

Wanting to show off a bit, Sirius started to use and modify some of the new skills that Moody had taught him during their last bout. Channeling fire magic through his boots, Sirius rocketed into the air, throwing small burst of sparks and flame at Snape as he dodged and weaved through the air, making a huge target of himself no doubt, but increasing his mobility.

Being in the air was nostalgic for Sirius, reminding him of the good days when he would fly with James for Gryffindor, and that happy thought was what gave him the edge with such a strange technique, well that and his still rather light frame from so many years of malnourishment.

Snape started weaving his magic about, trying to arc and curve the ice bolts to turn and intercept Sirius as he moved, but with well controlled bursts of flames, Sirius started to fly circles around the sallow Slytherin, occasionally returning fire but more or less sticking to pure avoidance.

Sirius smirked as they continued to battle. In a sense, it was like reliving their old school rivalry, but instead of pure animosity, there was a feeling of something more productive at work, and surprisingly it brightened Sirius dark mood that he had been trapped in for the last several weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was pleased at how quickly he was able to discover the location of the soul fragment that had awakened. Opening a portal to the dilapidated shack of a house that protected the item, Nobu'tan calmly walked through the high weeds toward the door of the shack, with a skeletal serpent nailed to the wooden partition.

The reek of dark wizard magic was palpable on the building, and there was a distant itch for Nobu'tan to simply leave and take care of anything else that was more important than this, but that sensation only increased his interest in procuring the soul fragment.

The outermost wards were the most weakened due to the passage of time, and the barest touches of the Fel granted the warlock access to approach the door without issue, the charm of repelling in his mind fading as he approached the skeletal snake.

Knowing that there'd be less hassle for him if he did so, and the likelihood of anyone catching up to him even if they sensed it, Nobu'tan reached into the Nether and beckoned Khiighun the Felhunter to join him, setting the demonic hound to feast upon the corrupt magic, which it did so with gleeful chortles of whatever garbled noises it considered language.

Apparently there was some sort of password affixed to the door, tied in part to the remnants of the snake fastened to it, but the Felhunter simply absorbed and devoured the magic altogether, rendering the door trap completely inert, and allowing Nobu'tan to enter the shack.

Dust and filth covered almost every surface, as though it had not been used in many decades of time, and while Nobu'tan sensed that that was indeed the truth, there was an extra layer of something that was keeping things in this appearance. An illusion perhaps, or perhaps something more…?

Not willing to be bothered with actually breaking the enchantments himself, Nobu'tan indicated for the Felhunter, and it happily went about feasting on all the magical traps that it could find, soon revealing the dangers that the room had attempted to hide from view.

Many of the wooden floorboards had been removed, revealing deep holes with dangerous looking thorns and other sharp impaling tools at the bottom, just waiting for foolish people to walk in unsuspectingly. At the far end of the shack, inside the lone fireplace that was imbedded into the wall, was yet another layer of wards, strong and more complicated than the others around the building proper. Picking his way carefully around the physical traps, Nobu'tan studied the spell work of the wards, even as Khiighun started to pull at them with his feelers. Reaching forward with one hand, Nobu'tan traced the patterns of magic with a touch of the Fel, softening the other magic with the pure corrosive effects that the power of the Legion provided, and making it more palatable to the demon at his side.

Once that last barrier was gone, his prize remained, settled in a small pile of ashes. It was a simple band of metal, with a small stone set within it, curiously etched with markings of the Deathly Hallows upon it. The soul fragment was set into the metal band, along with a powerful curse upon anyone who attempted to wear the ring, which was most amusing to Nobu'tan. Tracing the outer edge of the band with his fingers, he set to work drawing the soul out and away, relishing the painful moans that emanated from the object.

The metal grew molten after a time, and catching the stone as it fell from its setting, Nobu'tan allowed the band to levitate in the air as it melted away, the soul fragment remaining in a carefully crafted ball of energy. Placing the tiny stone in a pocket, Nobu'tan withdrew the shard that held the rest of the familiar spirit, and pulled the new fragment toward it.

They joined, after much force was applied and some spells of containment used to prevent it from whisking away to who knew where, and now the shard seemed to be nearing completion, but still lacked some pieces to it. not fully understanding the completeness of the mystery that it represented, Nobu'tan quickly departed, knowing that he had other things to be planning for, such as his infiltration of Diagon Alley while the school children were about getting their things, and he lacked the time to stand here in the ruins of a trapped cottage and muse over the mystery of an old foe's soul, and how it came to be scattered like the four winds.

Opening a portal back to his place of abode, Nobu'tan smirked as he departed, taking no notice of the small rat that watched from the corner of the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark Lord Voldemort was beyond furious. He had first sensed the flare of dark magic, quite unlike anything he had encountered before, merely a stone's throw from his hiding place in the village of Little Hangleton, specifically at the old cottage of his ancestors. It was also the location of something vitally important to him, so he had sent Pettigrew to investigate, but ordered him to remain hidden.

Useless though he was in most things, Pettigrew was required to keep Voldemort as strong as possible until his plan came to fruition and Harry Potter was brought to him. The news therefore, that some unknown figure in dark robes had found his prize, not that the rat had known what the item that the figure had destroyed was, more than worried the Dark Lord. If someone was hunting his anchors before he was even ready to retake a permanent physical form, than he could be in grave peril.

This body would keep him alive even in the event he lost them all, it was true, but the form was weak and could be easily destroyed if he was discovered. They had to hasten their plan at all costs to make sure that Potter was there when the ritual was to be completed, and his full body restored to its former glory.

His immediate desire would be to investigate his other defenses around Britain, but he could not trust that sort of information to Pettigrew, so it would have to wait until he was fully reformed. This did not sit well with the Dark Lord, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

Needless to say, Pettigrew felt the effects of the Dark Lord's rage for several long minutes before allowed to resume his normal cognitive functions.

Still, in an effort to be proactive, Voldemort chose to send Pettigrew to check everything that had been prepared for the ritual again, even though the man claimed that it was all safely protected from prying eyes, but one could never be too sure of everything, especially when strange wizards have been snooping around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was overseeing the last of the preparations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or rather the last of the preparations that could occur before the students arrived and be kept hidden from them until the right time. Pens had been build just inside the forest for one of the tasks, as well as both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons confirming their allotted numbers of students that they were bringing, their names, ages and other information.

What continued to worry the Hogwarts Headmaster throughout all of this however, was the same sickening feeling of whether he ought to follow through with his plan to force Nobu'tan to return to Hogwarts with this event. The binding magic of the Goblet would indeed force the boy to return and compete, or it would remove his magic, or kill him, none had been foolish enough to allow such an outcome to happen.

The problem was the potential damage that the boy could, and likely would, lay about the castle when he did arrive, and how best Albus would have to work to counter such a threat in the face of so many witnesses, both in the Ministry and from foreign schools. Was it worth sacrificing all of his political power to make sure that this boy was completely distracted from his nefarious goals, and still having the issue of the boy being underfoot and keeping certain unanswerable questions from arising.

Albus could already foresee that if he pursued this course of action, war might indeed come to Hogwarts over it, and was it truly fair of him to put so many student's live at risk just for the chance to stop their entire world from falling to ruin?

In the end, Albus backed away from such a course, he could not bring himself to willfully cause such destruction to occur while he was Headmaster. After considering all variables, he wasn't sure he could contain the boy if it went out of control, which given the boy's temperament when other attempted to control him, it would most assuredly happen.

Alastor might call him a fool for backing down, but the old Auror didn't have the duty to think of the safety of over a hundred children day in and day out, and that took priority over anything. They would have to quickly find another means to stop the Legion before Nobu'tan could do the unthinkable and summon the demonic horde to their world.

Albus was removed from his musings and worrying when Bartemius Crouch approached him, the Ministry man looking as brisk and no nonsense as ever as he spoke, "Well Albus, I believe everything in is order for the school year to begin in a few weeks. I wonder, have you had any knowledge of the whereabouts of young Mr. Potter? The Auror office has been abuzz with the rumors of him missing and other things, but by and large I get the feeling that something is being kept under wraps, and… you know, no one keeps a secret better than you…"

Albus recognized the barb in the words, but chose to ignore it. In his long experience it was the best way to defuse a person that sought to injure as well as communicate, "Well, many rumors are simply that, but I can assure you that some of those regarding young harry are true, the good, and some of the bad…"

"A pity, that the Ministry is having so much difficulty in locating the boy or his kidnappers, I had looked forward to possibly meeting him during this event, and expressing my condolences in person." Bartemius stated flatly, and Albus could tell that the man didn't mean a single word. More likely the man was working closely with Cornelius, and trying to funnel information of the boy's whereabouts from Albus, thinking that the entire situation was false, which was exactly why the Aurors were having 'difficulty' locating him. It certainly was hard to find something that you are prevented from actually looking for at every turn.

Albus leveled that bit of subterfuge at Lucius Malfoy's feet, knowing that the pureblood Lord was more or less involved with sequestering the boy out of Albus' sight, but nevertheless he was not about to give away his knowledge of the matter here to someone who would not believe it for a heartbeat, but merely use it for his own personal gain.

"Ah Bartemius you haven't changed a bit…" Albus said with a sigh, noticing the small tick in the man's eye, and acting completely oblivious of the man's dislike of memories regarding the past.

The failed attempt to become Minister after the first war was still something raw for him then, naturally so after losing his entire family and career in a single blow. Sirius would have had plenty of words for the man, but Albus was not about to repeat any of them in polite company, even if it was just Bartemius.

"Well, I'll be off Albus, we shall return in October when the Tournament begins officially, good day…"

"Good day to you as well, Bartemius," Albus said cheerfully, keeping the idle front going until the man was out of sight. Refraining from rolling his eyes sardonically, Albus turned and departed, returning to his office and the plethora of paperwork and other things that he had to address before September the first arrived.

Alastor was just stepping out of his fireplace when Albus arrived. "Finally got rid of the Ministry leeches I see Albus?" he said, smirking at his own humor.

"Bartemius just left, after finally deciding that we've done all we can before September first," Albus clarified, not willing to vocally agree with his friend, as it would be unfair to how hard Barty was trying to make things run as smoothly as possible.

"Crouch?" Alastor asked with a note of derision, "That man has been running the Aurors ragged with preparations for his events, and look how they turn out… the World Cup fiasco, Bertha Jorkins disappearing, and not so much as an investigation regarding the whereabouts of Pettigrew, despite him escaping months ago…"

Albus frowned, still not over his displeasure with Cornelius regarding that event. It was growing far more apparent at how ineffectual their government was becoming, even if they themselves were constantly willing to pat themselves on the back and believe that they were doing all the good in the world for their people.

"I'm starting to wonder if putting Nobu'tan's name in the Goblet of Fire is a wise decision, with how destructive he could become one he arrived at Hogwarts…" Albus confided, hoping that Alastor might have an opinion rather than scoffing at Albus' lack of commitment.

"It's true; the boy could end up potentially destroying quite a bit of the castle in his fit regarding that sort of turn of events." Alastor agreed, nodding, which caught Albus off guard from what he had expected.

"But still," Alastor continued, "I don't feel right just leaving the boy be, what with him plotting the literal end of the world. Rather him here and right ticked off at us rather than out there, safely behind wards while he summons demons hell bent on annihilating our entire planet from the sky."

"And the safety of the students?" Albus interjected, voicing his greatest concern.

"Have you not noticed…?" Alastor countered, "The boy has done absolutely nothing to harm innocent bystanders. I mean, sure he's attacked those that confronted him and whatnot, standard teenage loss of temper happens, but he's never, not in all the time he been among us, gone out of his way to harm those undeserving of his wrath… I think the children will be perfectly safe."

Albus paused, recognizing the wisdom in his friend's words. Nobu'tan had indeed been fair and just with his actions, even if they were evilly motivated. The Legion would not be so merciful to the innocent, whereas Nobu'tan would seek only the guilty parties regarding his supposed mistreatment.

"Alright Alastor, you win. We will go forward with the plan as we originally agreed." Albus said at last, convinced that there was at least a strong chance that they might make it through this course of action with only minor injury, but no loss of student life.


	43. C42: Subterfuge

**Many thanks to those who continue to review the chapters as they roll out. Your support is most appreciated. the final act of the Earth arc is about to begin, and while I'm sure many of you want it over as soon as possible, just as much you are looking forward to what will happen within the climax of this section, so I urge patience. There are exactly ten chapters left of the arc, so it will go by faster than you think. in the meantime, please enjoy. ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Two**

 **Subterfuge**

Nobu'tan knew he had little time to spare if he was going to make it to the wizarding marketplace and travel about unnoticed among the throng of other wizarding youth. The window of that opportunity was closing as quickly as the first of September approached. Which was why upon returning to his room in Malfoy Manor and finding a strange House Elf there, a golden locket in hand and a wizened, battered look in its bulbous eyes, was a most undesired turn of events.

"Master Potter, known as Lord Nobu'tan," the elf said in a croaky voice, flourishing into a deep bow. "Of the line of Dorea Black, an honor it is to meet one so powerful and so Dark."

"Um, yes…" Nobu'tan replied, at a loss of what to do in this situation, but the elf apparently had his own ideas of what was going on. Presenting the locket, he continued, "A treasure of the house of Black, which would otherwise have been thrown out and lost by the current heir, rotten boy that he was, breaking his mother's heart…" the elf said, his voice growing soft in his mutterings toward the end.

Normally, Nobu'tan wouldn't have cared about such a trinket, but the shard in his pocket leapt at the sight of it, and the warlock marveled at the stroke of luck to find another receptacle of soul in a matter of hours, not even a single day yet.

"This is an honorable gift," he said, striding forward, eager to take yet another piece of his foe's soul for himself. Hands like claws, he cast a few spells to levitate the object into the air, and withdrew the pulsating crystal from his robes, "However it seems that this object has been tainted, and I will remove that darkness from it now…"

The elf, which had yet to give his name to Nobu'tan, watched in awe as the warlock began, lightly throwing a handful of spells at the locket to weaken its defenses, before plunging in with draining magic, ripping the soul fragment in the roughest and most direct manner he could conceive of.

Was it just him, or was the piercing shriek that radiated from the stone more real than it had been for the other objects? No one came to investigate however, so Nobu'tan had to conclude that that was not the case. The locket dropped to the ground with a dull thud when the task was complete, and Nobu'tan watched in fascination as the shard grew yet again, and still it was not finished.

The warlock marveled at just how many possible places that wizard had his parts of his soul… it was staggering that at least seven receptacles were used, plus or minus his own body, wherever that was or was not… "You have done me a great service elf…" he said as he turned, but the creature was already bawling to itself, fat tears flowing freely down its ragged face.

"Great Master Potter fulfilled Master Regulus' wish to destroy the locket. My master's death is avenged!" and suddenly Nobu'tan had the small creature wrapped tightly around his knees, embracing the warlock as tightly as a small child would a beloved relative. "Kreacher is forever in your debt great lord," the elf muttered over and over, before opening its eyes and looking off into the distance, seeing something that the warlock could not.

"Kreacher must go, but he will come whenever the great master has any need of him, just call for Kreacher and he will come, no matter what master wants him to be doing or not doing…" he said, before disappearing as rapidly as he had appeared in the first place.

Nobu'tan was at a loss of what just occurred. There was clearly some massive story behind what had just happened, but now was not the time for him to ponder over it. There were preparations to make, and a disguise to assemble. Weaving Arcane and a minor touch of Fel magic, he concealed his normal features, and even more importantly those altered by heavy use of demonic magic, not to mention that scar, which had mostly faded since he removed the fragment of soul that had been affixed to it, but it was still not going to heal permanently.

Changing from his Warlock garments into more casual human wizard apparel, he cast a few more of the wizarding worlds spells, to make himself seem at one with the background of wherever he was, only to be broken if he spoke to someone directly. As much as he'd enjoy wandering Knockturn Alley again at this time, if he was to visit the goblins, he had to dress the part.

He still was going to open a portal however, as it was by far the only method of travel that was worth it. Leaving a small note to be delivered to Lucius that he was going, out of minor courtesy as the man had been concerned for his safety, Nobu'tan stepped through the gateway into a small side street between two close set buildings, about midway through the marketplace.

Only a few small animals saw him appear, and they scurried away without incident, so Nobu'tan, appearing bright faced and looking about like any normal fourteen year old teenager, exited his secure arrival point and started wending his way through the crowds towards the bank.

As he had suspected, there were many Aurors present, not so much in a show of force, but hidden away from the public's eye to prevent any undue stress on the citizens, but still, Nobu'tan could sense them. Moody's handiwork no less, as though the man presumed that this would happen, but with a more visual appearance of the warlock boy-who-lived… as though he was that bold and stupid to just appear in his normal form when he was effectively a wanted person. Although what the Ministry's desire to find him and those at Hogwart's goal were likely vastly different, neither outcome of being discovered by either party was acceptable.

The same shops were just as packed as they were two years ago when Nobu'tan had last investigated the wizarding market place, Books, Robes, Apothecary, and Quidditch stores booming with customers outside waiting for their turns, and many young children, some Nobu'tan's age, bustling about with their things for school.

In due time he arrived at the bank, navigating around a long line of people waiting to meet with a teller for their trivial needs, and flashing a wicked grin at the guards, which seemed to be the easiest way to summon some of their workers to escort him down to the primary meeting area of the goblin leadership, as not several minutes into his arrival, a goblin approached him.

"Mr. Potter, this way if you will." He said without preamble, and Nobu'tan followed closely as they moved through corridors of offices for those wealthy enough to do investment through the goblins, and down a long flight of stone steps. The goblins had to be bringing him different routes to show that they were capable of defending themselves if he turned on them; the warlock was convinced of this.

Shows of strength were common among such people, and while he had no desires to sever his ties with the goblin nation at this time, he felt less inclined to do so every time they showed off how elaborate their fortress was.

Director Gotts Ironbane was waiting for him in a long office, not the massive throne room that they had met before in, but something more along the lines of what one holding his title would have, and somehow Nobu'tan couldn't help but approve.

"Ah, Lord Potter, you have returned to us yet again." Director Ironbane said, gesturing for the other goblin to depart and for Nobu'tan to have a seat. "What can we of Gringotts do for you on this visit?"

"Actually, I have come to do something for you and your people…" Nobu'tan said, which caused the Director to pause in his paperwork and look at him.

"The time draws close that the Legion will come to this world, and to be prepared, I am willing to offer the gifts of both Arcane magic, and that of the Fel to your people, to use and train those as you will to become powerful Mages and Warlocks to aid us in the times ahead. There are too few of those I can count as allies that possess these skills, and I know that you will make excellent use of such resources."

The greed was palpable in the Director's eyes, if the steely sheen was anything to go by. Clearly the goblin was calculating what power that they would possess with a handful of his people that held a fraction of Nobu'tan's strength.

"And what is the price of this bargain," he asked suddenly, and Nobu'tan almost laughed at the pragmatic question of the banker, "As allies, I would only wish to see out alliance grow every stronger together. I expect nothing more to be given to myself in exchange for these gifts of knowledge. If you but summon a selection of your most magically attuned people, I could start immediately, and get a group of each magical art started, so that they could begin to learn rapidly and teach others."

From within his robes, Nobu'tan produced scrolls, and a pair of small tomes that he himself had created, which detailed many of the early stages of training for both Mages and Warlocks. "These will help greatly, once I am gone dealing with other business, but I will return often to check on their progress and aid where I can."

The toothy grin was almost feral from the Director as he shouted in his own language for another goblin warrior to fulfill the request. "They will meet in one of our conference rooms below this level, do you want to separate who learns what yourself, or will it matter?"

"With goblins, I doubt it will matter, but I will divide them based on what aptitude I can sense when I meet with them," Nobu'tan confirmed, standing and given a partial bow of respect, "Your wisdom and wealth ever increase, Director…"

The goblin nodded back, "May your enemies fall before you, great teacher…" he said, even as another goblin came to escort Nobu'tan to his new pupils.

If he was surprised by the Goblin Director's immediate acceptance of his tutelage, then Nobu'tan was floored by the number of goblins that had been gathered. Sitting in rows of seating in a conference room, all watching for his arrival, were thirty goblins, all with rapt attention to the Warlock's every move as he entered.

Stepping to the center of the room, which was set low in the floor with rising tiers of seating all around, aside from the aisle to the door, Nobu'tan smirked as he flicked his fingers at each of the braziers, lighting them with different power that he channeled effortlessly, alternating between standard fire, arcane power, and Fel flames that glowed green in the gloom.

The goblins were suitably impressed. Stretching out his magical senses, Nobu'tan began to make swift calculations. There were far more suited to be warlocks here than mages, but the numbers would suffice to make a start, "Many of you are more matched for powers of the Fel," he commented to the group at large, "I will therefore separate those who contain more aptitude for the Arcane, so I may teach you differently, and the magic will not forcibly collide…"

Seven out of the thirty were selected, and Nobu'tan set their chief to be a female goblin named Naglig, moving them to a side that was encompassed by arcane and standard fire braziers, while the other twenty three clustered nearer to the Fel flame torches, and Nobu'tan set a trio of leaders for the significantly larger numbers, selecting another female, Arrat, as well as two male goblins, named Urnar and Ragrast.

It was actually rather gratifying to see an entire room filled with those connecting to the greater powers that be, and Nobu'tan felt the surge of pride knowing that he was, quite literally, changing the fate of a nation. These new warlocks, and their mage allies, would become a powerful source of future servants and warriors for when they struck out through the Twisting Nether to return to Azeroth, and he looked forward to seeing their full potential unleashed.

The goblins were persistent, unwilling to allow for breaks or even pauses as they absorbed every scrap of tutelage that Nobu'tan could think to impart to them, progressing in several hours what had taken the human warlocks weeks to learn. It was a true joy to be their mentor, and Nobu'tan was so focused on instructing them that he barely registered when Director Ironbane made a surprise appearance to see the progress.

"I am most impressed with your work, Mr. Potter…" he said, even as Nobu'tan turned at his approach. "The things that my people can already do after a few hours of training under you are simply astounding."

And it was the truth. Every member of the goblin warlocks had successfully summoned an imp, as well as mastered all the basic fire and debilitating spells that made up a warlocks basic arsenal. And the mages as well were nothing to scoff at, already mastering completely those spells that paved the way for a specialization.

Nobu'tan personally was pleased with his choices of leaders, as each of the primary affiliations were covered, while the lead for the mages, Naglig, was seeming to tend much like Hermione Granger toward the pure power of the Arcane.

"Your people have a devotion to success that I have not seem anywhere else on this world," Nobu'tan admitted with pride, "they strive to progress, even when I myself feel the need for a break, and they continue to practice…"

"It is the goblin way here at Gringotts." Ironbane said, smirking to reveal his many sharp fangs. "I have another potential route that you may wish to consider for allies, if you are willing…"

"Oh," Nobu'tan said, watching as a pair of goblin warlocks started pitting their imps against each other, and the rest joining in on the sport.

"Yes, if you were to approach the werewolf communities, I suspect they would greatly relish the opportunity to break free of Ministry oppression, much like you new friends among the Centaur tribes…" the goblin said knowingly.

"Ah, you heard about that I see…" Nobu'tan replied, brushing off the unsaid accusation.

"Many people heard about that, and how the Ministry is still searching for their whereabouts after getting news of their departure into wizard control lands." The Director clarified, "I trust that they won't be found so easily."

"Assuredly." Nobu'tan affirmed, "Where would I go to contact these werewolves then?" he asked, watching the mages as they continued their practicing. The fact that the goblin spell casters had intentionally continued to work without eavesdropping on their leader was astounding, a true testament to their loyalty to their leaders.

The Director nodded, "Knockturn Alley would be a good place to start, but I would further warn you that not all of the packs will be amiable to your promises, as they fought on the side of the Dark Lord a few years back, and are fanatically loyal to one Fenrir Greyback, who enjoys turning young people into monsters like himself."

"I will take care then, to avoid or eliminate him if I encounter this pack leader," Nobu'tan replied, "It would be best, while I have the cover of the crowds, to go now. I will return to further their progress in time, but have them continue on their own, and begin teaching the fundamentals to others that you find among you people in the meantime."

"It has proven to be a worthwhile venture to deal with you Mr. Potter," Ironbane stated, giving a short bow of respect as the warlock departed, "may it continue to be so as we move into these uncharted waters."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was more than grateful to leave Black's presence when the man was finally satisfied with their practicing, and return to his important work deciphering those items that Potter had left behind at Hogwarts.

Returning to the comfortable darkness of the Hogwart's dungeon offices that he had claimed so many years ago, Severus locked the door with a spell and turned once more toward the little side table where he had been running his experiments from Potter's notes.

It still astounded him how pure of a form of magic this method of potionmaking was in comparison to that which Severus had mastered over years of study and perfection. Currently simmering on a very low flame was a bubbling greed potion that was marked in the notes as a minor troll's blood elixir, which contrary to the name had nothing to do with trolls, merely granted supposedly a limited form of the creature's regenerative abilities.

Severus had yet to try such a thing, but he was still bottling it just in case someone had need of such a thing with the madness that Potter threatened to bring upon their world. it didn't hurt to be prepared, and thus far into Potter's notes there had been no mistakes or intentional misleading, so Severus had no reason to doubt the effects of these potions.

It was important also, before the school year started up again in a few days, that he clear all the excess remnants of these potions away so that the dunderheads that he had to teach didn't get into it and ruin something that was beyond their level of understanding.

Using his wand to spell the last of the potion into the vials, Severus cleaned out the cauldron with a wave, and banished the cauldron back to join his personal collection. There were only a few potions left in these notes, and a few more which appeared to be incomplete, so it was apparent to Severus that the boy was in the process of copying them from memory, or working out the possibilities in his own mind, having more intimate knowledge of these plants and their capabilities with his system.

However, now that Severus was capable to creating the same potions, he would be able to pick up where the boy's notes left off, and continue wherever Potter may have been meaning to go. The potions were simple enough, being comprised of mostly raw magic with minor substance to add direction, which it was easy to speculate what might have what effect.

It was a challenge that actually appealed to Severus' methods and intelligence, far more than directly challenging Potter by forcing him to participate at the castle's tournament this coming year, but that was the Headmaster's decision, and not one that Severus himself could influence.

Still, he had added several layers of wards to his office and all his personal effects, just in case the worst did happen and Potter tried to level the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had arrived, September the first, and Albus waited at the center of the head table as the newest students were sorted into their houses. The great wizard could sense that many were on edge and brimming with anticipation as to the speculated news of the tournament, and that many more had no idea what was going on, but he would wait until the meal was finished to make his announcements and send them all off to bed.

Curiously, he found himself watching the two sides of the hall as new student were sorted, specifically the figures of Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy. Both were paying keen interest in the new students as well, almost sizing each of them up and their potential worth. Miss Granger would smile every time a new Gryffindor Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff was sorted, while Mr. Malfoy had eyes only for the new Slytherins.

While normally this would seem as nothing but polite children, Albus knew that these two represented the powerful sub factions of the school, known to only a few of the students, and even less of the staff.

The Mages, along with Miss Granger were preparing means to propel their world forward into a new age, one that Albus would gladly see happen, a redefinition of magic as they knew it, while on the other hand, Draco seemed to be following in the footsteps of Nobu'tan, willing to sacrifice their entire world for something else, possibly a new life on a world far from their own.

Why the Malfoy's would so willingly agree to such a cause Albus wasn't sure, but as it seemed they had. He could speculate that it was to escape the punishment that they would undoubtedly accumulate from their former lord when he rose to full power again, which according to Severus the man had been building his strength back up for weeks on end now.

Coupling that with the disappearance of Pettigrew, which he had learned of only through Alastor, as the Ministry was keeping everything to do with Sirius' lack of justice a secret, down to the forbidding of Amelia to even question Peter until it was too late to do so.

Tom would be most wroth with his followers when he learned that they followed another, especially if it was the boy that had defeated him so many years ago. The price they hoped to pay for that level of treachery was high indeed, something that the sort of serpents that Lucius Malfoy and the other Purebloods would want to slip out of without a catch, which was what Nobu'tan had offer: free power given to them from the Legion in exchange for their world, and another that they could flee to and rebuild their lives as they so chose, a seductive temptation if ever there was one to be had.

A pitiable scenario if Albus had his say regarding it. To allow others to pay for your own mistakes and flee somewhere else to hide from it solved nothing, but such was the view of the weak and the corrupt for ages past.

Only time would tell, once Nobu'tan was summoned by the power of the Goblet of Fire, what was to become of these two groups of magic users, an alliance between them due to their mutual progenitor, or rivalry for his attention leading to conflict.

When at last the meal was concluded, and the last of the puddings had vanished away, Albus rose slowly to his feet, suppressing the smirk as all sound in the hall died away, all the children eagerly awaiting news of the Tournament. "So!" Albus started, smiling around at them, "now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

Briefly, he went through the usual announcement, regarding Mr. Filch's ever increasing list of banned joke products and other things used for the sake of fun, that which the man greatly detested, as well as the Hogsmeade weekends and the dangers of the forest.

Then the moment arrived at last to drop the news that they had all been waiting for, "It is also my painful duty to inform you all that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." One could have heard the sound of a pin dropping in the hall, the mixture of expectation and horror from the students at that announcement only met with what was to follow.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October," Albus continued on, wanting to ease the children of this deathly silence as quickly as possible, "and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy… but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely," that is, if they all managed to survive it, Albus thought bitterly. "I have the great pleasure therefore in announcing that this year at Hogwarts; we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event, one that has not been held for over a century: The Triwizard Tournament!"

"You're joking!" yelled out Fred Weasley from the Gryffindor table. Everyone in the hall, student and teacher alike, laughed at the outburst, breaking the stony silence that had so thoroughly gripped them all moments before. Even Albus had to restrain himself to a brief chuckle at the boy's response. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, although now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Minerva cleared her throat loudly, having also heard that same joke, and reminding Albus of it's less than child friendly content. "…but maybe it is not the time for… no," Albus said wistfully, returning to an aura of near seriousness.

He knew that most of the students had probably stopped listening as he explained the technicalities and other things that were taking place to allow the Tournament to proceed, and when the other schools were to arrive, but there was one further point that he had to make while they were semi-listening to him.

"Eager though I know all of you would be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, calming their excited chatter, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year, for safety concerns. Therefore, only students who are of age, that is to say seventeen years or older by this October, will be allowed to put forth their names for consideration."

Lots of angry muttering followed that, but Albus drove the point home, "I will be personally ensuring that no underage students hoodwink our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champions, therefore I beg of you all that will not be of age to not waste your time trying to submit yourselves unless you are of the correct age."

With that, he dismissed them all to bed, and sat amid the cacophony of sound that returned to the children filled hall. He knew it was rather unfair of him to give them the false hope of being champion regardless, when Albus knew they were using the Tournament to lure Nobu'tan out of his hiding place, but when resting the fate of their world against the fairness of a small inter-school competition, the choice was clear.

Turning to Alastor, who had been announced earlier as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Albus spoke, "And so it begins…"

The grizzly man nodded, "two months till all hell rains down on the school, do you think that's enough time to get all the extra precautions ready for the boy?"

Albus nodded, "I believe so." He had already been getting ready for Nobu'tan's arrival, setting special wards that could detect the use of the Fel magic throughout the castle. Naturally he expected that the others under Draco Malfoy would be triggering them by the end of the week, or sooner, but he set them in such a way that Albus was able to determine the level of power that was put behind a specific spell, and he suspected that that would make the difference telling between Nobu'tan and one of his followers.

With that and Alastor practically becoming the boy's shadow whenever he could, that had to be a significant start to what they hoped to do in nullifying the boy's ability to be deliberately destructive when the time came.

As for the Tournament itself, Albus had a few ideas that he was sure the rest of the judges would appreciate in order to keep a better watch on their champions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione was very glad to return once more to Hogwarts. It was starting to seem like she was losing a bit of her connection to the Arcane while she was away from the powerful ley lines that rested under the school. Although, once seated in the Great Hall for the duration of the feast and Professor Dumbledore's announcements regarding the Tournament, she was able to sense a palpable darkness that clouded the room, and with her ability to see through the Arcane, she had been able to tell that it emanated thickly from those Slytherins that had also studied under Harry.

Whatever magic they had learned, not only had it soured within them over the course of the summer, but now it was significantly stronger than before. True, she herself had trained and practiced on her own, as she had encouraged her fellow mages to do the same, but those darker magic users had expanded greatly, and there were not significantly more of them than mages among the three other houses.

That was why, when they were all dismissed to their common rooms to prepare for the following day, Hermione sent a pointed look toward her fellow Gryffindor Mages, especially those who had been with her from the beginning, and therefore were the most advanced, namely: Colin Creevey, Ginny Weasley and Fay Dunbar.

Hanging back in the common room when all the others went up to bed, they gathered in the plush chairs by the fire, speaking in low voices. "Did anyone else sense the great malevolence that wafted over the Slytherin table?" Fay started, commenting on just the thing that Hermione had detected.

"Yeah," Colin agreed, "it was weird, like our magic, but cold and uncaring about those around it…"

"It's dark magic… somewhat similar to what I experienced from him…" Ginny said, and they all paused. Ginny was one of the newest of their higher mages, and she had had firsthand experience with dark magic due to the situation with the Chamber of Secrets. It had been reported, and confirmed by her when asked, that a powerful dark object belonging to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had possessed her into releasing a monster into the school, but that was besides the point. The long and the short was that she indeed knew what Dark Magic felt like, and if she said that these Slytherins had something similar, but also akin to the Arcane, then this was bad.

"Why have we not sensed this before?" Fay asked, turning to Hermione in confusion, "Even when we worked with Malfoy and his lot to try and located Potter, their magic just seemed different, not so blatantly evil."

"Perhaps it always was?" Hermione mused, to the other's disturbed silence, "and only now do they have no reasons to hide what they truly are. Or they've grown too powerful to effectively hide it from the rest of those able to sense it?" she held up a hand to ward off further discussion.

"In any case, they strongly outnumber us now, despite our efforts in three houses and their limitation to just one. We need to step up both training and recruitment if we are to make sure that they can be held in check. Somehow I have a bad feeling about this Tournament. We have no mages that seek to enter yes?" she asked, turning to Fay.

"No," the girl responded, "none of us are old enough even if we wanted to."

"Good, I don't want to broadcast our powers for the Ministry and other schools to see yet, it's too soon for our unveiling." Hermione explained, and the others nodded. They could sense that this power, the arcane magic that filled the entire world, was something that would fundamentally change their society forever, and if introduced at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, it could easily destroy everything.

"Then Malfoy's group is a threat to us…" Ginny said.

Hermione didn't want to admit it, but she was right. Draco clearly had no desires to remain hidden any longer than he had to, and with their power in equal opposition to their own, it would mandate their exposure to counter them if things went awry, which seemed likely to be the case, if anything to do with Sirius Black's escape was even remotely true.

Hermione had done her research and discovered the lack of evidence that had held the man prisoner, as well as the lackadaisical searching that the Ministry had adhered to. Something was rotten at the top of the Ministry, and it was not a situation that Hermione was willing to introduce her new magic into, for fear of its immediate abuse, or worse exclusion and labeling as Dark Magic.

"So, what do we do in the meantime to halt Malfoy and his dark mages?" Colin asked, which Hermione mentally agreed was a needful concept to give much thought to. They had to do something immediately to stifle the Slytherin group's progress towards revealing them too soon.

But finding something that would distract them would be difficult to say the least. "I do not know," Hermione answered for the time being, "There are many variables, and I don't want to set off the possibility of open hostilities between us. We're the only Gryffindor and Slytherin groups that are tolerant of each other, and if we fall into distrust, then the rest of the school may devolve even further."

"You mean, actual fighting might start?" Fay asked, horrified.

"It's downright possible." Hermione affirmed. She had studied the effect of their magic on those who did not know how to harness its power. Even to an untrained witch or wizard, the Arcane could be sensed on a subconscious level, and when it was excited, such as in use by a mage or other powerful caster, the wizard or witch would react accordingly, sometimes without their full conscious approval of their actions.

It was frightening that they could, in fact, potentially control the school through innocent things like conjuring muffins. If the Mages therefore went to open hostilities with Draco's Slytherins, then the rest of the school would unknowingly follow with the saturation of Arcane magic throughout the building.

"So we keep to ourselves, build up our people, and wait to see if this tournament has any negative consequences to it, before acting." Ginny said astutely. It was the most sensible thing after all.

"Yes, I agree," Hermione said, stifling a yawn, "but for the moment, we should retire, there is much ahead of us, and not just another year at Hogwarts it seems."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco could sense a palpable change in the air around the school for the start of his fourth year. Already things were moving in a direction he was not sure would be productive for the Order of the Black Harvest. Both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody were at Hogwarts, as well as this Tournament that had for so long been opposed by the man, according to Draco's father, suddenly being allowed to happen at long last, it didn't add up to something that the warlock liked.

Quickly writing a private missive to his father regarding these turn of events, as well as reporting their swelled numbers, as other Slytherins were flocking to the others now to learn the ways of the Fel, Draco felt more than assured that, should some conflict occur within these walls, that they could at last hold their own for a time. Let the staff or the Ministry try and stop their progress now, at the worst, the others outside the castle could summon them out and that would be that.

Professor Snape gave his same start-of-term speech, primarily for the sake of the new first years, but Draco was past listening to the man. He was a servant of Dumbledore, and therefore his enemy anyway, placed here to spy on them, likely from the beginning.

The others from the innermost circles of the Order had gathered in their dormitory at the close of the day, but sleep was the last thing on any of their minds.

"What do you think Draco?" Theodore asked, "Dumbledore is planning something, but I get the feeling you have an idea as to what."

"I'm not sure what it is specifically," Draco admitted, glancing around the room at his four closest allies in this school. "But it has to do with the Tournament. Whether it is some sort of scheme to lure our Nobu'tan I do not know, but we had best be on our guard."

"According to my father," Crabbe spoke up, which caused each of them to pause. Both he and Goyle did not speak much, but that was not necessarily due to a lack of intelligence, but rather a lack of need to add their opinion, which clearly was not the case now, "the Champions for the Tournament were always chosen by the Goblet of Fire, a very powerful artifact that bound the competitors with an oath to compete if they were selected."

Blaise looked thoughtful at that, "I can see what a form of this plan would be, force Nobu'tan to return to Hogwarts under the pretense of competing in the Tournament, but then what? We know what our leader would do in response to such a dramatic demand from the old Headmaster."

And Draco had no doubts that they did all know specifically the amount of damage and chaos that Nobu'tan could rain down in revenge for any slight that the old man might make against him. "No, there's something else that the old man is up to, but I do think that this is part of it," Draco said, feeling that the idea had merit.

"Dumbledore must think he has some means of preventing Nobu'tan from laying waste to the school, us perhaps?" Theodore said, but already Draco was shaking his head, "If it were merely us, then we would be summoned right out of the school under their noses. No, I sense that Dumbledore feels that he has something over our leader that will prevent him from harming the other students in his… of course…" he said, stopping as he realized it.

"What? What is it?" Blaise asked, leaning forward from his bed.

"Has Nobu'tan ever gone out of his way to harm an innocent in all the time you've come to know him?" Draco asked, seeking confirmation from those around him. For a few moments they all stared off, deep in thought, before each returned a negative response, "No, I didn't believe so either. And why would he, there's nothing to gain from it. That is what Dumbledore is banking on, that Nobu'tan won't intentionally harm the innocent in the school just to get back at the old man. He's effectively using all of us as human shields."

"So," Theodore commented, "what can we do to make sure that this plan fails?"

"I do not know," Draco admitted, turning back to Crabbe, "How does this Goblet of Fire know who has submitted themselves for the Tournament?"

The boy thought for a moment, "Candidates would write their own names on parchment and place it into the goblet, so that it could get a sense of their magic."

"So, any piece of parchment with Nobu'tan's' name upon it, either name for that matter, and they could submit him without his own knowledge." Draco asked, seeking clarification.

"One would presume so," Goyle said, nodding his agreement, "Quite a dangerous flaw if you ask me…"

"No wonder they kept cancelling the Tournament," Blaise added, "people were likely getting submitted against their wishes since the beginning, trying to get them killed…"

"But is that what Dumbledore is playing at?" Theodore argued, "To kill Nobu'tan, it doesn't seem like the method that the old man would use."

"No, it most certainly doesn't" Draco agreed, staring hard into the covers of his bed as he sat back, "but whatever the man's motivation; we have no means of stopping him. They have two years worth of Nobu'tan's name on parchment, and I doubt that his magic would be weak enough, even then, to not be considered the most able to compete in the Tournament out of all Hogwarts."

"So, what shall we do?" Blaise asked.

"We prepare for Nobu'tan to make his arrival here at Hogwarts come October, and do everything in our power to shield him from the machinations of Dumbledore and Moody, if possible." Draco replied, standing and returning to his desk. There was much more to add to his letter now. Draco had no doubts that Lord Nobu'tan would formulate a cunning plan once he learned of this plot against him, however, and Draco would be prepared to do whatsoever was required of him.


	44. C43: The Summoning

**Many thanks, and a giant hug to those who reviewed the previous chapter, I am very pleased that the story is picking up once again in positive viewings. Here's to hoping that the next goes just as swimmingly! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Three**

 **The Summoning**

Lucius sighed to himself, relaxing for the first time in weeks with his wife in their family library, a glass of elf-made wine in one hand as he just relaxed, and the hearth burning merrily to add a layer of warmth to the room.

This was something he had done periodically throughout the first war while fighting with the Dark Lord. Every so often, when the strains of being one of the closest in planning their strategies and targets, Lucius had just needed a break to relax his mind, and for no more than a day at a time, he would just stop everything and be at peace with his wife.

Narcissa was in a loveseat nearby, reading one of her favorites, and Lucius could already feel the stress of managing this new shadow war with Dumbledore melting away from him. Most things were already well in hand, and while the old fool was on to their schemes, he truly had little clue as to just how far along toward summoning the Legion the Order of the Black Harvest was.

"Lucius…" Narcissa said, causing the man to open his eyes and look at her.

"Yes my dear, what is it?" he asked, frowning slightly at the look of concern on her face.

"Just what is the endgame of this campaign that you've started with Mr. Potter?" she asked, pointedly glancing up from her book at him. "Does it stop at throwing down Dumbledore, or is there something that you're not telling me?"

Lucius hesitated, knowing that Narcissa probably suspected far more than she let on already. While he had kept her from most of the Order's plans and objectives for her own protection, much like while he had been a loyal Death Eater, there had been good reason there. The madness of the Dark Lord was plain for anyone to see, and he wanted his family kept safely far away from that man as possible, even if he had to serve him directly all the while.

With Nobu'tan however, things were vastly different. The boy had meant what he had said, regarding the Council of leaders for their Order. While Nobu'tan was the de facto head and made decisions on his own quite often, he never tried to overrule another's desires, only going far enough to present his opinion and allowing the council as a whole to vote on whether to proceed or not.

But in matters such as this, where it only concerned Lucius directly, the man suspected that the younger boy would be most reasonable if he informed his wife on the basics. Nothing that could betray them if the worst happened and she was taken by their enemies, but enough to satisfy her desire to know what he was getting involved with.

Sitting forward in his chair, and after another long sip of the cool wine, Lucius set aside the glass and looked as his sweet wife, the love of his life and partner in all things, as things were meant to be. "There is an objective further than Dumbledore, in fact to be honest; Dumbledore is just a roadblock to our objective, and nothing more."

Narcissa had placed a mark in her book and closed it, paying keen attention to his words, as though considering how they might impact their family. "The core of the matter is that Nobu'tan, or Harry Potter as he was named in this world, through some event that none of us know, was sent as a baby to another planet, one that was rich in magic and caused him to become so powerful in not only our magic, but other arts that are all but unknown to those of our world."

She nodded, "including summoning those beasts that even now continue to tear up our gardens…" she deadpanned. Lucius shrugged in acceptance, there was no getting around that his wife did not approve of the need for the demons guarding their manor and tromping around in the places she used to frequent quite often.

"Our goal, therefore," he continued, "is to reopen a pathway to that world, and go through to leave this place and its lesser magic, and live in that world, where our lives will be much better off." Lucius stated

"And just how much of a price does that level of magic require?" Narcissa asked, readily accepting Lucius' answer at face value. He had learned quite early into their marriage to never try to lie to her when she was like this. The results could be extremely painful, in many senses of the word.

"It does come at a great and terrible price, but one that Nobu'tan is determined to pay…" Lucius said, hesitantly wondering how much he ought to say more.

"It has to do with those creatures… doesn't it…" Narcissa said, astutely guessing the core of the matter.

"Yes," Lucius affirmed, "They are called demons, and are part of a massive group called the Burning Legion, that roams the entire universe in search of planets to… to destroy… in exchange for what he wants, Nobu'tan plans to sacrifice this world by opening a way for those demons to enter here and consume this planet…"

For her part, she took the news rather well, merely growing quiet as she considered all that Lucius had said. "And the deal he made with you and the others of this Order was that you all, and your families, could come with him to this new world, where we'd be safe from this Legion and their destruction?"

"Yes, that was my first bargain with the boy when we first discussed the plan, as insane as it sounded at the time." Lucius affirmed.

Narcissa frowned, but nodded, "I understand, I don't completely approve of such a drastic outcome, especially from such a young boy, but I understand his desire to return home at any cost… He does look so out of place and unhappy here…" she said, looking out the window, clearly thinking of the first few times that they had met the small boy.

"I promise that I will not allow anything to happen to you or Draco," Lucius said, standing and crossing over to the loveseat, taking his wife in his arms and holding her close. "My loyalty, as it always has been, is to the both of you above anything else. To escape the Dark Lord, the Ministry, everything, and go to a world where magic is still alive, and more than that, thriving, well… you've read the tales of the days of Merlin and the times that Avalon was still running wild through this planet."

She nodded, knowing exactly what Lucius was referring to. The real reason that most Pureblood families were so prejudiced against the Weasleys was driven solely by jealously. Many of these families wanted to have many more children than they did, but through years of dedicated breeding with only fellow purebloods had led to complications with many of the women. Mrs. Nott had died in childbirth, and Lucius had almost lost Narcissa just giving birth to Draco.

They just weren't willing, for the most part, to sacrifice their companions for another possible child. Those families who had a second, or even a third child were considered extremely blessed, while the Weasleys were heralded as legendary in their ability to continue their progeny, but because of their leanings toward muggles and Albus Dumbledore there wasn't much adoration to be sent to them, even though by all rights families should have been lining up to fight over the right to have their children marry into the clearly very stable gene pool that Arthur and Molly represented.

Truly, if not for their personal feud, and fighting against each other during the war inspired by the Dark Lord, Lucius would have harbored a desire to see if Draco could be betrothed to the youngest girl, who ideally would have been a prime candidate for any family, with how productive her mother had been in child bearing.

However, what had been explained by healers to them in Narcissa's case, was that the amount of magic required by a witch to keep them alive and still birth the child was simply lacking for most Purebloods, due to the heavy strain and barring even any complications. There was a small amount that they could do to help ease such things, charms and other small spells, but overall a lack of magical power was the issue.

If such a land as this Azeroth was as rich in magic as Nobu'tan had promised, it might be a place safe enough for Lucius and Narcissa to consider having another child again, which had been something that each of them had wanted since they were married.

Lucius could already see it now. While he handled the matters of the Order of the Black Harvest, he could set his wife up in some nice location, close to a strong, stable human civilization, if there was one, to raise their second child in peace, and he could visit often with careful apparition. She would be safe, and aloof of any potential hazards that their business might bring, and their family at long last would gain an additional member.

"Life for us there could be very good indeed," he said, relaxing into his desired image of a life away from all the struggles and pains of being a pureblood Lord, and needing to constantly watch his back in the Ministry and elsewhere. It would be interesting to know what peacefulness felt like.

"That would be something wonderful," Narcissa agreed, "I just wish that the price wasn't such a high one."

"We can't have everything unfortunately," Lucius admitted, looking down at his beloved, "and Nobu'tan has promised that we will not serve the Legion forever. Freedom and peace… just think of it my sweet, for us, for Draco, and whoever else might come along in the future…"

With a contented sigh, they stood there for a while longer, holding to each other's embrace, thinking of the possibilities, and allowing the world to move on for a short time without their need to supervise it. Definitely the best session of relaxation that Lucius had undertaken since starting the tradition.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan, acting on the advice of the goblins, had followed up his visit with them by strolling Knockturn Alley once more, searching for the possibility of discovering these werewolves and enlisting their aid in his cause as well, but there was been no success. To be fair, the form that he had chosen of the dark robed entity of pure malice and power probably came off as far too intimidating for anything, as most figures avoided him at all costs while in that dank alleyway.

So instead he had waited some weeks for the first full moon of October, knowing that it would be far easier to locate the packs while transformed, and follow them to their places of residence after they returned to human form. From there he could approach at his leisure.

Therefore, on the eighteenth of October, he set out with a small fleet of eyes, scouring the countryside for a large enough pack of werewolves to follow. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take too long to discover a rather large one, roaming the fields and glades in their wild abandon, but Nobu'tan wasn't foolish enough to attempt to approach until the three days of full moon departed.

Nevertheless, he discovered where this massive pack was located, in a rocky set of caverns near a wide lake, rather remote and far away from most other humans. It was interesting to learn that these creatures actually sought to live like the animals they were more or less cursed to become, rather than fight the curse and try to maintain their humanity.

With the extra time afforded him by waiting, Nobu'tan was able to determine who their leader was, a large brute of a man named Fenrir Greyback, and he was a disgusting sort, who enjoyed going out and intentionally setting himself up to attack and bite other people, especially children, and turn them into more werewolves.

This displeased Nobu'tan, not so much regarding the loss of life, but the sheer audacity to think that the mind of a beast was superior to the mind of a sentient being. Greyback would have to be either slain or reigned in if Nobu'tan was to establish a rule over the pack.

It was the morning after the third night that he went in personal, heavily disguised in his dark robes with all the small trinkets that glittered with power and the fel magic that slowly wafted off his person from time to time. Most of the werewolves, now safely in human form with little risk of changing, were down in their den resting from the pains of their transformations, but some of the older ones were already up and about.

They smelled Nobu'tan's approach far before they saw him, as there was already a small group waiting for him, their stance low and hostile as the warlock drew near. It was almost amusing to Nobu'tan to watch as they attempted to reason out exactly what the smell could be, and what they ought to do about it.

"Stop there, stranger!" one commanded, and for the time being the orc-raised human would humor them, and obeyed. "Fetch Fenrir," the same one commanded another, who looked displeased for such a task, but Nobu'tan didn't care. He wanted to deal with Greyback quickly and move on to other tasks with these creatures.

Soon enough the large, hairy man appeared, reeking with the musk of unwashed body and almost snarling at the intrusion upon his time. "What do you want," he demanded.

Nobu'tan did not reply right away, but continued to study the massively built werewolf, wondering what sort of weaknesses the man had; although he could guess then number was few. "Answer me!" he raged, when he was all but ignored.

"When I am ready," Nobu'tan said, his voice masked by the gravely illusion that was copied from Gul'dan. It caused some of the other shape changers to shudder at its coarseness, scarcely masking the power within. "Yes, I think you and your pack could serve nicely," Nobu'tan said after another moment, watching the frustration in their clearly easily angered leader's face.

"I bring an opportunity, and if you will accept it, a gift…" Nobu'tan pressed on, still ignoring the original question. What he wanted would be satisfied regardless of Fenrir, and that was what he intended to imply.

Greyback snarled, but didn't leave. The warlock smiled at the greed and anger that rose in the man's eyes. He wanted to be the one in power here, but he was also desperate to know what sort of opportunity and gift this powerful stranger could be bringing him and his pack, it was plain enough to see.

"We shall hear of these things now, before I make any decision for my pack…" the man said at last, cooling his temper and trying to keep the stance of a powerful leader in place. Not that it would matter for much longer, as far as Nobu'tan as concerned.

"My masters wish to extend the opportunity for your pack to enact vengeance on those wizards that shunned you, persecute you, and kill you when and if they can. The gift is the means by which you can accomplish this feat, and make the wizarding world quake with fear at the merest mention of a werewolf…" Nobu'tan said silkily.

The result was almost instantaneous. Greyback started to look at Nobu'tan with greed, as though trying to see where such a gift was hidden on his person. No doubt with the intention of simply attacking him to try and take it for himself. Whether he was disappointed to be unable to find anything of note on the warlock, or what he was able to see or smell on Nobu'tan, he couldn't tell.

"And what is wanted in return for such a valuable promise and gift?" the werewolf asked.

Nobu'tan stepped backward, carefully conjuring the plinth that held the basin of demon blood, and held forth the bone chalice in the direction of Greyback. "Why, everything of course…" he said slowly, watching the amber eyes glow with malice and greed.

Nobu'tan knew the attack would come before the werewolf even started to move. He leapt with a roar of rage at the warlock, crossing over twenty feet in a single bound, but the quickly muttered spell and gesture was faster still, and powerful fel energy intercepted the flying werewolf, throwing Greyback backwards into the side of the cave, binding him there like a helpless cub before a storm.

"That's not any way to treat your benefactor…" Nobu'tan said chidingly, taunting the werewolf for his stupidity. The other present werewolves were clearly frightened at the use of Fel magic, something that they had never seen or experienced before, but Nobu'tan felt that they might still all attack if their leader ordered them to. Just in case then, with a small gesture, the warlock ripped open holes in the fabric of reality and called forth a squad of four Felguard, which towered over even the strongest looking shape changer, and easily appeared four times as strong.

The demons stayed close to Nobu'tan and the chalice plinth, gripping their weapons menacingly, even as the warlock continued to offer the full cup toward the nearest werewolf.

"Simply drink, and the pact will be sealed, the gift given, and you fate decided…" he said cryptically, enticingly. It was all he could do not to laugh or smirk as they stepped forward eagerly to partake of the Fel gift. Excellent warriors indeed…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dumbledore watched the clue-white flames of the Goblet of Fire burning uncaringly in its wooden container. The foreign schools had arrived with their students only the previous day, and the tournament announced in full. There had already been those that submitted their names for the Tournament from Hogwarts, but it was tonight, in the midst of the three days allowed for participants to enter, that the chosen of Hogwarts would be placed within the Goblet.

Alastor had stated that he knew a way to confuse the Goblet and guarantee that Nobu'tan was chosen. A slip of parchment, taken from one of the boy's old essays from years prior, was all that they needed. Albus would have preferred if they could safely submit the boy under Hogwarts, to protect one more student from whatever was going to happen during this Tournament, but Moody had said that it was far safer to befuddle the impartial judge to think there was a fourth school, and Nobu'tan as the only candidate from it, therefore guaranteed to be chosen.

"It is ready, Albus," the man said as he lowered his wand from casting at the powerful artifact. Albus stepped forward brushing past the age line that he himself had created to protect those under the age of seventeen from participating, and deposited the boy's name into the goblet, with the name of the school they had falsely created attached.

It felt underhanded and downright cruel to do this to the boy, but Albus was not allowing the boy to run amok any longer, the consequences here at Hogwarts be damned. The deed finished and their course set, Albus departed from the entrance hall, just in case anyone else appeared and started to ask unbidden questions.

They had a few more preparations to finish before the Goblet forcefully called to the boy, and summoned him to the castle, unless he went the other route and died in attempting to ignore the magical directive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was very pleased when he learned that Nobu'tan was staying at the human manor for a few days longer, planning to oversee the ogre magi's development in the powers of the Fel. While the chief of the ogre clan knew that their leader was extremely busy moving from place to place and gathering required allies and materials for the fulfillment of the grand design, it was still rather tiring to be left out of such tasks, and they were all starting to feel rather underappreciated for their contributions up to this point.

They were currently practicing the art of subjecting a wild demon, enslaving it to their own will, when Lord Nobu'tan's concentration faltered. Teg'Ramm and the other magi had been watching the demon as it responded to the young warlock's commands, and turned, concern etched in their faces as they saw their master bent over, clearly in pain, clutching at his chest.

Bellowing for the others to fetch the Lord and Lady of the manor, Teg'Ramm rushed to his master's side, lifting the small human in one hand. The boy's face was pale, and completely wracked in agony, and his skin was like fire on the ogre's hand.

Nobu'tan was moaning to himself, already deranged from the sudden change in his internal temperature, "…Hogwarts… Dumbledore…Goblet…"

But most of the things had no meaning for the ogre mage, and he hastened to take the young master to Lord and Lady Malfoy, who were the resident experts on humans and their biology. The pair of humans were already waiting for Teg'Ramm, having come at the calls of the other magi, and readily took the young master into the house, where none of the ogres could fit inside, and so they had to wait around outside and find out later what had happened to their master.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor wondered how many of the students were shocked when a fourth slip of parchment came out of the Goblet of Fire, declaring Harry Potter as the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, alongside Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory, a petite little thing from Beauxbatons called Fleur Delacour, and the Bulgarian Quidditch star Victor Krum.

Most of the students, both British and foreign had been shocked into silence as the flames shot out the parchment, and the name drew gasps from quite a few, as they were all keenly aware that Harry Potter was not at Hogwarts, nor had been for the previous year either, having been reportedly kidnapped by evil dark creatures.

Knowing that they'd crossed the point of no return, Alastor watched as Albus ran damage control, placating the students that they would get to the bottom of this, and dismissing them to go and celebrate the other three champions for their selection in the tournament.

They exchanged meaningful looks as Albus went toward the trophy room where the three in question had gathered, quickly followed by the other judges and heads of the foreign schools, probably for the sake of arguing why Potter had been admitted in absentee to the tournament, and Alastor stomped along behind them all, wanting to see if there were any that figured out the reasoning.

Alas, they were all typical Wizarding folk, completely obsessed with why Potter was admitted to the tournament, forgetting completely that the boy wasn't even present to admit himself. It was rather disturbing to the old Auror in fact, that so many would overlook such a simple problem.

Fortunately, Snape was present, and perfectly willing to play the part of the irritating voice of reason. "What I would like to know is how Potter's name came out of the Goblet in the first place, when he hasn't been inside Hogwarts castle in over a year…" the man said sourly, pointedly interrupting the other Headmaster's from ganging up on Albus against Hogwarts supposedly having two champions.

Thoroughly distracted, Albus was able to redirect the flow of the conversation, promising that if Harry showed up, his participation would not be a reflection of Hogwarts, as the boy had not been effectively enrolled in the school for the current or previous year, and therefore was unable to represent then in the challenges.

That seemed to placated the other heads of the foreign schools, but Alastor was still disgusted that they thought nothing of where the boy could possibly be right now, or the fact that if he failed to show up he would die as magic was torn from him violently, but with his added knowledge of what was truly going on, Alastor was not overwhelming concerned himself, so perhaps that aura from Albus, who felt and knew much the same, was what contributed to the rest of them overlooking the fine details.

Finally the three adult mages were all that were left in the trophy room, once the champions and the other judges were dismissed once the hints for the first task were given. "So, the deed is done, then?" Snape questioned, and Albus nodded.

"It's all in Nobu'tan's hands now, whether he accepts the summons of the Goblet or not, and arrives within a week. After that, I do not know if even he could survive the backlash that the Goblet of Fire will inflict upon those who break their oaths to it, even if he was placed into it without his knowledge or acceptance." The Headmaster reasoned.

"It was a cruel thing to do Dumbledore, and you know it…" the dour Potions Master continued accusatorily, and the old man seemed to wilt slightly under the weight of it.

"I know," he admitted, "but I stand by the needs of the many outweighing the needs of one, especially when that one is trying to effectively destroy the world."

Snape said nothing more, bowing to Albus' wishes as the three of them departed the trophy room. "How long until the boy arrives, Albus," Alastor questioned, wondering how much time they had to put the finishing touches on their preparations.

"No more than three days at the very most, unless we sorely misjudged how powerful his magic is…" Albus responded, "If I hold any true knowledge regarding the boy's moods though, we will know when he arrives. Nobu'tan likes to make a show of things, and this will be no different, regardless of how enraged at us he will undoubtedly be…"

"Then I will finish the runes tonight, rather than later on, as clearly we will need every protection for your students and guests that we can muster." Alastor concluded, before leaving Snape and Albus in the great hall, already drawing his wand and conjuring a few small arcane orbs to light his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan felt his insides burning as though he had swallowed live coals. Even though his own screams and the panicking sounds of Lord and Lady Malfoy above him, he could hear a rhythmic pounding, much like a drum or heartbeat, pulsating the terrible sensation and downright need to travel back to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

He resisted, and was punished every moment that he refused the summons. Nobu'tan cursed Dumbledore from the depths of the Nether. Blast the old man for such a creative means to get him back under his old thumb. The agony continued for hours as he struggled, attempting in vain to think of a spell, anything that would alleviate the pain searing through his body, worse than any curse or weapon that he knew of, that was figuratively cooking him alive.

He could see the object that was summoning him. A chalice of wood, seated upon a pedestal of stone, burning angrily with blue-white flames, demanding his presence to complete its assigned task, and satisfy the magic that was involved in its creation.

True, the urge to just give in was strong, even if he went unwillingly to the school and burned it to the ground for the offense that they had done to him with this action, but Nobu'tan was thoroughly stubborn, and would not yield if he had any other choice. But that had only led to even more pain, and a furious burning that only intensified as time went on.

Finally, when he could bear it no more, he made up his mind to obey, although consequences would indeed follow once he arrived at the school for whatever madness they had thought summoning him would achieve, and instantly the pain vanished, leaving him sore and his throat raw from the endless screaming.

Narcissa Malfoy swooped on him the moment his cries ceased, and Nobu'tan would have attempted to push her off of him, but his muscles were weak from thrashing uncontrollably in his bed, therefore he allowed her to mother him like a defenseless child.

She ran her wand over his body multiple times, her frown growing steadily more pronounced with every pass. "His magic was burning in his very veins, Lucius," she reported, once complete, "it was indeed killing him, and you were right to force the potions we had into him even while he fought us."

Potions? Nobu'tan did not recall being force fed anything during the mad agony, but as he slowly, and gingerly, raised his head to peer about, there was evidence everywhere of a great and terrible struggle. Shattered vials and thrown objects everywhere, some things burned and Lucius himself sported a great bruise under his left eye. Nobu'tan's fist pulsed with a discomforting sensation that clearly told the warlock of what had occurred.

Sitting up with no small amount of assistance from Narcissa, Nobu'tan tried to gather more of his wits and figure out just what had happened. "Be careful," she warned gently, "You've been in constant motion for several hours, and are likely extremely worn out. Rest is what you need right this moment."

The thought of doing anything but getting to Hogwarts sent small threatening waves of warmth through his body, and Nobu'tan weakly tried to stand, his knees buckling only twice before he accomplished it. "I have no time for the luxury of rest, unfortunately."

"What happened?" Lucius asked, clearly sensing that the younger warlock knew.

"Dumbledore…" Nobu'tan seethed the answer, "he used some sort of magical artifact to summon me forcefully back to his blasted school, and it causes that pain whenever I refuse, or have thoughts other than going straight to his fortress. Some sort of wooden chalice I believe."

"The Goblet of Fire…" Lucius supplied, "brown wood, sits atop a stone pillar, blue-white fire…" he described, and Nobu'tan nodded.

"That was a very dangerous and nearly lethal attack on you then," the man surmised, offering his arm for Nobu'tan to walk, "You have no choice but to go, and I daresay you have less than a few days to procrastinate before it will kill you. This means that the old man succeeded in getting you selected."

"Selected for what exactly," Nobu'tan said, angry that he had to actually rely on the man far more than he wished to simply walk. Thankfully his strength was already returning to him, slowly but surely.

"The Triwizard Tournament," Lucius stated, "You recall the letter that my son sent us several weeks ago, detailing this very scenario could happen."

Nobu'tan certainly did, but at the time he had not believed it possible for the old man to succeed in such a feat, or even if he had that Nobu'tan would be able to shrug off whatever happened. "I believe we ought to trust Draco's impressions somewhat more than I clearly did."

Even though there was a plethora of things he wished to grab, including several potions that might relieve the burning pain that shot through him with every step, Nobu'tan felt as though he was compelled, forced even, to move out of the manor, where he could safely travel to Hogwarts and fulfill the prompting commands of the alleged artifact that had summoned him.

Teg'Ramm and his clan's magi were waiting worriedly outside of the manor, and crowded around as Lucius and Nobu'tan exited. The young warlock regained the ability to walk under his own power, and shrugged his way out of Lucius' firm grip, "It seems our enemy, Dumbledore, has used a powerful artifact that will force me to appear at his stronghold. Naturally I presume he thought I would go alone and immediately, but that is not going to be the case. Fetch supplies and whatever else might be needed for a battle that may or may not happen, and return quickly, I do not know how long I can delay the sensation before it cripples me again."

The two headed ogres departed, scrambling for their own items and gear, as Lucius gestured with his hands and a pair of house elves appeared carrying most of the items that Nobu'tan had hoped to collect before departing, including his full set of warlock raiment. If Dumbledore was throwing down the proverbial gauntlet with this challenge, then Nobu'tan would meet him in it, but naturally only because of his lack of choice in the matter.

The burning sensation was only just starting to return when his ogre magi returned, and Nobu'tan quickly set about opening a wide portal to the front of the darkened grounds of Hogwarts. there were no students about on the grounds so close to the evening meal, and Nobu'tan presumed that it had to be some sort of feast, as there was both a boat bobbing in the lake, as well as a massive carriage settled on the grounds, indicating foreign students or other visitors were in attendance.

More audience for him, Nobu'tan supposed as his personal guards surrounded him. He almost thought that their presence had gone unnoticed, and was disappointed that Dumbledore couldn't have witnessed such a thing as a Fel portal opening right in front of Hogwarts itself. Truly a weakness to exploit later on, he thought as the lead pair of Ogres threw their weight into the massive door to the Great Hall.

Whatever chatter the amassed people had within were silenced instantly as the four ogres appeared at the door to the Hall, with Nobu'tan at their head. But the warlock had eyes only for Dumbledore, seated between Alastor Moody and Karkaroff, the Bulgarian Headmaster looking quite pale as those whom he had secretly held at his school reappeared.

But his ire was set, and with a quick set of choice words, Nobu'tan had already launched a spell to attack the man responsible for more insult and injure to his person than any else put together. Dumbledore stood with a swiftness that betrayed the supposed age of his body and conjured a prismatic barrier of arcane energy, which absorbed the flame that would have attempted to burn straight through to his very soul.

Another spell was already on the warlock's tongue, when he felt the magic countered by a gust of arcane winds that the old man summoned. "Cease this madness!" Dumbledore bellowed, his voice magically amplified to where many of the surrounding students covered their ears in fright, many even fainting from the shock of so much so fast.

Nobu'tan sneer up at the powerful wizard, but even he started to quake a bit at the terrible sight behind the head table. This was not Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts that he was looking at any longer, but Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindlewald, the only one that Voldemort feared, and champion of the downtrodden, his eyes flaring with arcane power as his presence bore down upon the five warlocks.

Nobu'tan realized that, even with his ogre magi, if he fought here and now, he would lose, even die, against the fury that Dumbledore represented. His title of Archmage, foolishly given so long ago, was thusly proven to be apt. Dumbledore had mastered the arts of the Arcane, far faster than even Nobu'tan had, and with his great knowledge and power from time, he was a match for Nobu'tan. If he challenged the man in anger, here and now, with so many innocents for the man to protect, the righteous fury alone would cause their battle to soar among those of legends, and Nobu'tan was not certain he could achieve victory.

So, he relented from his wrath and cooled the fel fire in his veins. "You had me summoned, Archmage, for some silly child's game…" he said from beneath the deep hood of his warlock's raiment.

Clearly, the announcement of what participants had been already known to all the students in the hall, as they began carefully muttering among themselves, especially those furthest away from the ogre magi and therefore the ones deemed safest.

Dumbledore beckoned for Moody and Snape to join him as they descended from the High Table and crossed the hall toward them. Teg'Ramm moved to block their path from approaching the master warlock, but Nobu'tan prevented it, knowing that if the older wizards decided to get too close, the advantage in combat returned to them with the ogre's physical prowess.

"We shall discuss this elsewhere, out of earshot of the children," Albus said, his voice like stone and his eyes still burning with indignation.

"As you wish…" Nobu'tan said softly, indicating for the Headmaster to lead the way.

"They will wait outside of the castle," he added, gesturing at the four hulking figures.

"I refuse," Nobu'tan countered, matching the iciness of the Headmaster's word "it is clear that you cannot be trusted to keep your word, so I will retain my guards anytime I must be in your presence, just to ensure that I can move about as I please, unhindered by your need to meddle in that which you do not belong…"

"I believe the fate of our world matters a great deal to any who feel that they have the ability to protect it, whether you think it's important or not." Dumbledore impressed again, "Nevertheless, you will not be dissuaded from frightening my staff and students with your unnatural servants, therefore we shall take the discussion outside entirely then."

Nobu'tan shrugged uncaringly as he followed in the midst of his four ogre magi, after the three mages.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing.

At first she had merely suspected some arcane anomaly, as happened occasionally at the castle from time to rare time, but when the powerfully built monsters with two heads forced open the doors to the Great Hall, admitting a much smaller, human-shaped figure, she widened her eyes at the level of magical power that wafted off each of them.

It was the same dark magic that Draco and his friends used, but much more potent and frighteningly intense than any of the Slytherin children had managed. And then the unthinkable happened. With a roar of magic and the deafening sounds of children screaming in fright, the figure had actually outright attack the Headmaster, firing powerful flames that seemed to consume the very air they travelled through at the old man.

And yet, Professor Dumbledore had simply revealed a touch of his true magnificence in regards to the Arcane arts, batting aside the attack as though it was nothing, and bellowing in a manner that make the entire hall quake to silence.

Hermione had never seen the kindly Headmaster so angry before. He strode down, almost stomping as he moved with speed unheard of for a man of his age, with Professors Snape and Moody at his heels, to confront the mysterious figure and his hulking guards.

Only as they turned to leave as a group did Hermione catch a glimpse of the figures face beneath the deep black hood he wore, and she almost gasped aloud at the sight. She had thought that Harry had been kidnapped, but here he was, returned to them at Hogwarts in one of the worst ways imaginable.

But the glowing red eyes of a Dark Wizard were no illusion, this she knew, and with the power that he clearly wielded, it was no doubts as to what those creatures had done with her close friend. Hopefully Professor Dumbledore would sort things out and make it so that the former Ravenclaw was well protected.

If anyone could help him, Hermione trusted that the Headmaster would be able to. Although as she glanced to the far side of the hall to see if Draco had also seen who it was under the hood, she frowned as the Slytherins were all huddled together, muttering imperceptibly about something. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, Hermione had the feeling that she was being left out of a very important secret, one that the Headmaster had not shared freely with her.


	45. C44: 'Prisoner'… Again

**So... yeah, much backlash over perceived issues of the Nobu'tan/Dumbledore exchange in 43... to most of those, at least the ones I did not yet have a change to reach out to directly, I urge you to reread that section slowly, and take note of the perspective and timing of events.**

 **Remember that I write in 3rd person limited, meaning that I don't present the full unbiased truth through any character's eyes, only what they think and see. So if someone * _seems_ * X, Y, or Z, then its means that the character whose perspective it is currently * _thinks_ * that, not necessarily that it is the truth. Some Critical Thinking required, not that I suspect people lack the skill, perhaps they just weren't expecting to need it in the midst of a narrative. **

**Hopefully that leads to some more understand of my intent, and perhaps I could have presented it more clearly to how I meant it, but that's the glory of Fanfiction. I am practicing word-skill, and expressing enjoyment for a pair of series that I care deeply for. If the manner in which I do so is offensive to some, that is not my problem or concern. If it is a weakness in my writing skill however, state it as such, and offer _*true Criticism*_ which includes a possible solution, rather than simply complaining about not liking something.**

 **Nevertheless, thank you for the concern, and the many positive reviews that were also had in response to the chapter. Perhaps there might be answers to it further in this, please note that this was written months ago and is not any sort of attempt to patch perceived issues. So please, enjoy... ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Four**

' **Prisoner'… Again**

Dumbledore was not pleased with the behavior of this rogue student. Yes, he had expected that he himself would be the target of the boy's wrath, but did Nobu'tan lack the control that he couldn't refrain until they were safely away from innocent bystanders.

But even as he thought this, Albus knew that that was exactly what the boy had wanted, to make a great stage of it, before a wide audience, of the animosity between the mysterious figure and the Headmaster, which would hinder their ability to show that it was indeed Harry Potter, 'freed' from his captors and preparing to enter the tournament he was so wrongfully placed within.

It was a good counter to the political fallout that was sure to come once he was revealed, but there were many repercussions. Firstly, there had been Ministry members in the Great Hall, namely Ludo Bagman, who would be sure to blab back at his work, and that would circulate around until both Fudge and Amelia Bones heard of it, and together they would send legions of Aurors to either apprehend the boy, or at least cage him perfectly until they figured out what exactly to do with him.

It was almost more perfect than what Albus could have hoped for. There would be no easy escape for Nobu'tan now, once the word escaped that he was here alongside these creatures. Albus dared not mention any of this aloud, as the hulking, twin-headed trolls looked frightfully protective of their master, and more than able to break any of them with their bare hands alone, notwithstanding their magic, which Albus had no illusions that they were well proficient with.

If Nobu'tan was anything, he was a teacher, and delighted in instructing others in his magical arts. Alas, Albus mourned, if things had worked out differently they might have been able to do many great things.

They stopped in the middle of the grounds, "So, we are out of the earshot of your precious little ones," Nobu'tan said challengingly, "What was so important to discuss, aside from your clear and present displeasure at my choice of company, and the apparent 'lack of care' regarding the fate of _your_ world."

The casualness of the words were like a slap to the face, but Albus endured it, waiting for his turn to speak, "We were going to inform you regarding the events that took place after you had so abruptly departed from us two summers ago, and their implications for you personally."

"Fine, start with this blasted Tournament, and how I might leave it so that I can continue my far more important work…" the warlock sneered in return, clearly enjoying being the one seemingly in power over anything else, but Albus was not swayed. Nobu'tan must have felt the stinging pain of the Goblet's wrath, if he had taken nearly two days to appear after his name emerged from the artifact.

"Even if such a method of escaping the Goblet's contract existed," Albus therefore said slowly, "I doubt it would be any sort of method that you would consider, if you think you can endure the violent loss of all magical ability as acceptable…"

Nobu'tan said nothing, silently fuming at him, and the Headmaster shrugged before continuing, "It is part of the magic of the artifact, forming a binding magical contract with whomever's name emerges from it at the beginning of a Tournament. To retain your magic and fulfill the contract, participation in the Tournament is required. The first task, which the others have been given no information regarding, begins on November the twenty-fourth…"

Typically, Albus would be required to offer room and board to a former student, but in this particular case, he was doing no such thing. The warlock and his guard were not welcome inside the castle, aside from those few instances where his presence was required. "You may make yourself comfortable wherever it pleases you, out here on the grounds," he said therefore, gesturing to the wide lawns. "I doubt that anywhere in the castle would be comfortable enough for your trolls otherwise…"

Again the boy did not respond, but departed to a far corner of the grounds, his guard in tow. Once out of sight, Albus let a sigh of relief escape, even as Alastor glanced at him, "Are you sure letting him have such freedom to move about the grounds is a wise move?"

Albus nodded, more sure of anything in these past few years, "He cannot leave, at least not long enough to accomplish his plans before the Tournament is ended, and if any of the students go to visit him, we will know of it. It's the perfect setup, keeping him close, yet isolated from the rest of the castle. Also, if and when the Ministry decides to make a move to 'capture' him, then the students will be safe from the inevitable battles that will take place on the grounds."

Even Severus was nodding in agreement to that concept, "But what if the boy wants to resume his education at the castle while he is here, slim though that might be?"

"I was already under the impression that he was not being given a choice in that matter, after we explain that he has to be in the appearance of a student…" Albus said carefully, "but in the end it doesn't truly matter, if anything the less that he knows of our world the better. I believe, however, that he is already too far advanced for the typical seventh year curriculum, let alone the fourth year that he would be going into. Still, a valuable siphon of his time, which would prevent him from being wantonly destructive I suspect."

"I disagree, Headmaster," Severus commented, "it would be far too dangerous to have him roaming the castle in close quarters to the other students, who will see that he is who they suspect already, and questions will be asked that you know exactly how he will answer."

Albus had to yield the point to his Potions Master, "you are right, Severus. That would do no one any amount of good. Leaving him here on the grounds would be for the best, aside from Tournament matters, and we will let the days unfold as they may. Hopefully we will discover a more permanent means of dealing with this danger before the end of the year."

Although, even as the three adults returned to the castle, Albus had a sinking feeling that in the end, it would come to a climatic duel in the end, between himself and Nobu'tan, with the fate of their world in the balance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco paced in the Slytherin common room, idly wondering how they might exchange messages back and forth to Lord Nobu'tan without the eyes of the teachers resting squarely upon them. when the young warlock had not returned to the castle with the Headmaster after their little 'chat,' Draco had suspected that Nobu'tan had been all but banished from the castle, along with his guard, which in Dumbledore's shoes was the right course of action, one that Draco himself would have taken, but still.

Now that he was on the opposite side, trying to break past this informational blockade from the most powerful warlock and his supporters within the school, Draco was unsure what they might accomplish in aiding him without the ability to directly communicate.

Owls were out of the question, as it would be obvious if the owls were going out of the owlery and straight to wherever the warlock was camped. But perhaps if they took a roundabout route, dropping something off at Hogsmeade for example, then it would be difficult to tell where the owl had come from.

Draco could tell that Granger was also desperately trying to make sense of what she had seen. It had been painfully obvious that she had recognized that Harry Potter was the dark robed figure that had attacked Dumbledore, but somehow Draco doubted that many others had spotted it. Wizards were rather dense in that fashion.

He was just starting to think of asking his father for suggestions in aiding their mutual friend, when the air before the fireplace suddenly went cold, even as a black rend in space and time was torn into it.

Having seen the warlock portals many times now, Draco was unafraid, although there were some of the other students that fled to their dormitories at the sight. Draco smiled widely as Nobu'tan walked through, almost shaking his head at the ease of entry that he had with the castle.

"It's almost as though Dumbledore forgets that I can do that…" he said sarcastically. Draco knew that the old man missed very little, and it was truly more likely that there was nothing that the Headmaster could do to stop Nobu'tan from using his power to move about as he pleased.

"We had just been trying to devise a way to contact you," Draco explained, smirking as the warlock took a seat in one of the green armchairs, looking very comfortable in their common room, as though he belonged.

"Well, that is mostly unnecessary, as Dumbledore has seen fit to isolate me from any human contact, aside from strictly Tournament business, much as he can actually do about it." Nobu'tan replied, scathingly regarding the Headmaster.

Draco simply nodded, it was a good thing that they had not made any move as of yet then, "What are your orders for us in the meantime then, aside from lying low and keeping out of Dumbledore's sight?"

"No…" Nobu'tan said, still smirking evilly at him from across the room.

Draco paused, not comprehending the word that had just been spoken. "What?"

"No," Nobu'tan reaffirmed, "now is not the time to hide our heads and pretend that nothing is going on. Rise up, actively seek out more members to the Order, and altogether undermine Dumbledore's authority on the magical learning of this school. The time for complacency has ended, and if it's a war that he wants with me, a war he shall get. And a perfect portrayal that will be for all his little foreign friends…"

Draco went from horrified to astounded, seeing the plot behind this move perfectly. "You want us to recruit members from the other two schools," he said, pinpointing the exact reason that was then confirmed by the smile on his leader's face.

"You may end up surprised how many potentials there are among the Durmstrang students, as they area already aware of the powers of the Fel, but have not had the opportunity to actually begin their training with me." Nobu'tan added, already turning to glance through the ceiling, "I believe it is time for me to depart before I am noticed within the castle once more… Snape and Moody are both Mages as well as Dumbledore; do not forget that, they are strong, possibly stronger than even you. Never be alone with them, stay together, and stay strong."

"As you command," Draco said, nodding slightly even as the cold of the void opened again with another portal, and Nobu'tan departed their presence.

Theo joined him then, having led with Blaise the removal of students who were not privy to the full extent of the workings of the Order of the Black Harvest, "So," he said slowly, having caught the tail end of the conversation, "How shall we proceed then?"

"Well, firstly, Slytherin is now our domain, and none shall enter here without our knowledge," Draco said, gesturing for effect as he summoned his personal Voidwalker, Klathkath. "Patrol this room, anyone who attempts to enter here without the green and silver trim of Slytherin, including adults, must be stopped, with the exception of any accompanying us or Lord Nobu'tan." He ordered the creature.

"You've called, and I have answered…" the Voidwalker acknowledge, before setting off around the room, almost in a near random pattern, familiarizing itself with the layout.

The others only paused momentarily before following suit, summoning assorted demons to protect the Slytherin common room, and openly defying the unspoken mandate of Dumbledore that no Fel magic be performed in the school. Granted, there was nothing official, so technically they were not in the wrong, not that they would be given such rights when they were caught.

As Theo was specialized in the summoning of many demons, Draco assigned him the project of keeping them all defended here in the house common room, even as he started to formulate with the other two how they would systematically destabilize the teacher's grasp on the control of their students, and spread the power of the Fel to all corners of the school.

There would be great plans ahead for them, just as Nobu'tan had promised from the beginning. Sleep came easy that night, and once the others had been informed of the plan come the next morn, they decided that a massive show of force would be required to make their first front against the oppressive governing of Dumbledore.

Together they marched up from the dungeons, every warlock of any caliber from their house, demons carried on shoulders or forming part of a large vanguard, protecting them mutually as they crossed the entrance hall, causing many of the other students, and some teachers, to halt in surprise and horror at the magnitude of creatures attending to the Slytherin students.

Dumbledore, Moody and Snape were all already at the High Table, speaking in low voices over something, likely regarding Nobu'tan from what Draco could guess when the precession of demons and Slytherins entered.

It seemed from their reaction, that they had known of their existence, but not nearly so of how many of their students had embraced the Fel, or how powerful they had become. Dumbledore stood, catching the attention of the multitude of Slytherin students, and they paused before taking their seats for breakfast, waiting for him to make his piece regarding their show of support to their leader.

"Mr. Malfoy… what is the meaning of this?" he asked coolly, as though unaware of exactly what they were doing.

"Just making sure that our knowledge of the true powers in this world is as adequate as they ought to be, Headmaster," Draco replied coolly, channeling every ounce of his father into his words as he could. From the slight tightening of his lips, Draco could tell that it had gotten under the Headmaster's skin, but what was there that he could do…

"I must insist that you all remove these creatures from the castle, as they pose a terrible distraction to you fellow students, and I must ask five points from Slytherin for each student that is in possession of one…"

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. Taking points, seriously? Like house points mattered when the Burning Legion was about to enter their world and destroy everything that these fools held dear.

So, Draco shook her head, "Alas Headmaster, we will not be able to fulfill that request, as we no longer feel safe in the school, and have summoned these protectors to guard us while we walk the halls and in our common room. The… ah, security measures you and your have taken these last few years have proven to be… lacking…"

That barb had clearly dug deep, Draco surmised, as even some of the other teachers were looking vehemently at the pair of them, although he was pleased to note that many more looked at Dumbledore with angered glances, as though judging him for why nearly an entire house of students would need to feel such a way…

But whatever the old man might have used to save face or redirect the situation, Draco turned away from the Headmaster, and with their guardians standing around them, the contingent of warlocks took their seats and began to eat quickly, as they had planned.

They would never stay in one location for too long, as there was no doubt that the old man would indeed try something to prevent them from being able to move as they pleased or encounter other students while the demons of the Legion flocked around them.

Glancing across the hall, Draco was also pleased to note the furious look on Hermione Granger's face, as the mage was clearly greatly offended by the amount of Fel magic that was now freely flowing through the castle.

Sudden realization struck Draco, and he put down his fork and knife before he dropped them. Nobu'tan had planned for this action; he must have, in order to finally spark the animosity that was to inevitably occur between mages and warlocks.

Throughout the day afterward, Draco knew that they were being watched, indeed how could they not be, but the looks of shock and wonder were almost completely balanced by those of disapproval and outright hatred at them for their summoned demons.

Thankfully, the teachers were not willing to make such a large scene in front of their guests, especially when it would involve punished a large number of an entire house that for all intents and purposes, had done nothing wrong.

Still it was going to be a long haul of unpleasantness for all involved, but Draco trusted that Nobu'tan was already plotting for their endgame, and securing the last of the artifacts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan wracked his mind as he paced the inside of the tent that he had had Teg'Ramm and the other ogre magi prepare for them upon the grounds. It was large and spacious, equipped with all the extra space that wizarding tents provided, so that even the towering ogres were comfortable, although they spent most of their time standing guard outside while their leaders plotted and planned for what they needed to do.

It was clear that aside from this tournament, Nobu'tan had been presented with quite an opportunity. He had never been closer to the Elder Wand than now, as it was in Dumbledore's possession, but the major mystery was how to get the man to part completely with it long enough for Nobu'tan to snatch it away and disappear.

This led to the first of many complications, namely the tournament itself. Nobu'tan couldn't actually leave until this childish game was completed, even if he had the Elder Wand in his possession, and the designated place to bring them was far away. Even the contemplation of departing the castle before the tournament was finished made Nobu'tan itch unpleasantly, the faintest of burning sensations spreading across his body, and he knew that it would not be a good idea.

Still, he was not completely walled off of what he could do or go, aside from inside the castle, although Dumbledore had made it clear that specifically he could not go in with his guards, not that Nobu'tan trusted the old man to not immediately attempt to entrap or defeat him the moment he was alone, so he remained out on the grounds as much as possible.

Leaving Teg'Ramm and one other to guard their tent, Nobu'tan would wander through the grounds, watching mutely as many of the students kept far away from them, and the now present guards for them tensed whenever they approached.

Still, Nobu'tan knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the three countries' Ministries got involved, and Nobu'tan was hardly surprised when it was the British one. A pompous looking young man with red hair came to the castle hardly a week after he had been forcefully summoned to the castle, along with a large group of the red-robed Aurors.

Nobu'tan knew that it meant trouble when Dumbledore appeared at the front doors of the castle itself, and the young man made overlarge gestures in Nobu'tan's direction, likely indicating the tent and the four ogre magi that were currently heavily in progress of creating their own Runestone. The magic was welling up between them as each head chanting a different verse of the incantation.

It was suitably quicker than if Nobu'tan was to do it himself, as they could perform the task without the added effects of a solstice or other celestial bodies waxing or waning. To forestall the unfortunate man from disrupting the ritual and throwing his minions violently out of their spell, Nobu'tan stepped between the man and his magi as he approached, the young man looking quite snooty as he observed the magic flowing through the massive hands of the ogres.

"What do you want…?" Nobu'tan said roughly, uncaring about the man nor his attitude. This one was hardly older than the warlock himself, so there was little need for him to even pretend to give any respect.

Clearly, the man picked up on the lack of respect, and drew himself up further in height, "You do realize that teaching magic to nonhuman creatures is against Ministry regulations…" he declared, as though the warlock was supposed to care about adhering to such a principle.

"Oh, is it now…" Nobu'tan replied, subtly allowing the magic of the Fel to build up inside him for what he felt was going to be an inevitable conflict. "Well, it is most assuredly a pity that these were not trained upon your country's soil, therefore outside of your jurisdiction. Therefore, I hardly see any need for you to come here, all ablaze in your unjustly appointed indignation, to do… what exactly? Kill them and arrest me for some violation that it irrelevant in the grand scheme of things?"

The young man stiffened at the confrontation, but refused to back down, clearly confident in his superiority against what to him seemed a young boy. "In addition, there are many accounts against you and these creatures in performing dark magic, whereby these Aurors have their orders to apprehend you and escort you to the Ministry and your hearing regarding these charges."

A silent gesture from Nobu'tan signaled that the magi needed to pause their ritual. Luckily due to the lack of need for any time constraining factors they could do this, so long as they were at a point where the stone was stable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was the first to see the signal from their master that he would need their aid. Quenching the torrents of magic that were boring runes into the stone and charging it with Fel magic, he gestured for the other magi to turn and surround their leader, protecting him from whatever may yet come.

"Hold it right there Troll," one of the tiny humans before them ordered, wand raised and pointing at him, but the man was quivering, clearly ill at ease with the four powerful, twin headed creatures before him.

"You do not command us pathetic human…" Teg said, sneering down at the group of red clad wizards.

"We only obey the master," Ramm replied, finishing the thought.

They advanced, and that seemed to be the signal that the humans were waiting for the attack. Their leader, a young man barely older than Nobu'tan, yelped and fled while the others shot their weak spells at the ogre magi. Teg'Ramm waved one massive hand, conjuring a shield of Felflame to consume the lesser magic, waiting for the orders from Nobu'tan to attack.

"Destroy them," the young warlock commanded, and the ogre magi all roared their approval, storming forward with both spell and powerful hands to crush the half dozen wizards that threatened them. Teg'Ramm grabbed one of the offending people, heaving back and threw the man hard, hearing the satisfying crunch as he landed hard against another of his fellows, and lay sprawled on the ground unmoving.

Spells washed over the clearing where they had encamped, and the ogre magi held the clear advantage. They didn't even bother calling upon their demons, allowing their thick hides to simply absorb many of the irritating spells, before calling upon Felfire and void magic to crush their enemies.

Soon enough it was over, far sooner than Teg'Ramm had wanted, but in the end, none of the magi were even injured, while the humans were broken, some dead, the rest retreating with all haste to the castle.

Far in the distance, the old man that Nobu'tan feared to face alone stood stoically in front of the castle itself, as though he had expected such an outcome, but had no power to hinder it from happening. Teg'Ramm hoped that he had the opportunity to aid his master in facing this one when the time came. As it would be a pleasure to actually have a challenging fight for a change, rather than these inexperienced wizards and their magical toys.

Ignoring the remainder of the humans, Teg'Ramm and the others returned to their Runestone, recommencing the ritual they had paused, aided only by a spark of Nobu'tan's magic to rekindle the flames that they had been conjuring to create the runes.

Once completed, this stone would be the beginning of their Fel barrier that would protect their campsite for the remainder of their time here, and prevent any such attacks from occurring again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus watched in disappointment as the massive Troll-like creatures that Nobu'tan had recruited easily drove off the Aurors, killing a few in the process. While it was useful that the boy have such harassment from time to time, he was not pleased that it resulted in such loss of life.

The Ministry would be better served if it though about the consequences of their actions first. But alas, this attack had the stamp of Cornelius all over it, as Madam Bones wouldn't have dared challenge these creatures so boldly, especially with only a half dozen Aurors to back up the threats.

That poor Percy Weasley had gotten mixed up in this, assigned to assist in whatever ways he could by Barty Crouch Sr. was also unfortunate, as the boy was rather high-strung, and not an accomplished diplomat. The fact that he was the first to return and basically hide behind Albus was testament to that. "What are they, Professor," he had asked, watching the poor excuse for a battle in horror.

"Something that only those with specialized training have any hopes of fighting, and that is a lesson that Cornelius needs to learn quickly, or his days in office will be short lived indeed," Albus replied, watching as the largest of the two-headed creatures turned to look directly at him. Albus could tell from the bloodlust in its eyes that it wanted to test itself against what the creature thought would be a worthy opponent. Perhaps Albus himself, but without orders from its master, Albus was sure that it would be docile enough to be considered safe, unless it was threatened, which he had no intentions of doing personally.

"You should go and report this to Cornelius, and hopefully advise him to reconsider any retaliatory actions, as they didn't even bother to call upon the myriad of other allies that they possess in swarms." Albus advised, but he already feared the answer when the leading Auror opened his mouth.

"The Minister shall do as he sees fit, Headmaster, and neither you nor I have any right to advise him to do anything." He said roughly, forgetting who exactly he was talking to.

Albus just smiled pleasantly to the man, "Well, that would be his prerogative I presume…" he then turned to reenter the castle, stopping only as they started to follow him, "Oh, I suppose you'd want to hurry back and inform the good Minister of the situation, the apparition point is past the main gate…" he added, much to the dumbfounded looks of the Aurors, who had clearly expected to be able to use the Floo Network, and Infirmery, within the warm castle.

Solemnly however, they obeyed, and started across the grounds once more toward the direction of Hogsmeade, where the apparition point was located.

Albus was normally not particularly petty, but it paid to make sure that they knew from the beginning that Hogwarts was not subservient to the Ministry in all things, and to not expect the Headmaster to cater to their every whim when they came to call. The lead Auror was clearly new, and hadn't had any experience in making decision for a team, therefore Albus' response was gentle enough to be fair but still firm enough to get the point across. Although it was with some resignation that he watched those injured limping across the grounds for a time as they retreated. The lower ranked Aurors did not deserve this, not that Cornelius would care.

As he returned to the long corridors of the castle, and started his personal patrols, needful now that the Slytherins had revealed quite publicly their leanings toward the Fel magic, Albus considered the potential problems that were about to face the castle. The tournament was about to truly begin, with the first task, and he could only imagine what the reaction of the students at the castle was going to be.

Predictably, the Slytherins would be supporting Nobu'tan, probably viewed by the rest of the school as an unprecedented betrayal of their real champion, who would likely be primarily supported by Miss Granger and the mages, who clearly would do so just to spite those Slytherins that were using opposing magic to their own.

In all likelihood the events of the first task, regardless of the outcome, would potentially blow up into an all out war between the two factions, something that Albus himself would have to intervene in to stop. A grim prospect, but somehow Albus knew that this was Nobu'tan plan for a distraction while he accomplished whatever sinister plot he had in motion to counter his time here at Hogwarts once more.

What exactly that plan was however, Albus was not fully certain. Clearly it would be related to the overarching plot to open a portal for the Legion, but he had never been fully informed as to what that act entailed. Certainly powerful artifacts would be needed to tear open a hole in both space and time to allow such powerful entities entry to a world, but what could they possibly need.

At first Albus thought of the Elder Wand, but dismissed it. Even if it was an end goal for Nobu'tan, the idea that he had pieced together where the item had gone and that Albus had it now was slim, however he would still be cautious regardless, no need to accidentally allow it to fall into the boy's hands.

Questioning Nobu'tan directly would be a futile effort; the same with most of his followers, So Albus was left with nothing to go on at this time, which was extremely infuriating. He would have to consult with both Alastor and Severus to keep a stern watch on the Slytherins as well as Miss Granger's faction of the other three houses, to make certain that nothing outrageously untoward occurred without them close by to prevent it.

And that was the case for the next few days, luckily the pair of groups kept their distance, although Miss Granger and her mages had also started to showing off their powers at every opportunity, and large elementals of water would flank many of their members for protection through the corridors. It was a nightmare for the teachers, but there was little that they, or even Albus, could do without punishing nearly half the castle, which he was unwilling to do as that would play right into Nobu'tan scheme of making Albus look like a bad Headmaster.

Soon enough, the weighing of the wands ceremony arrived, and the warlock had to be summoned up to the castle, although Albus logically reasoned that his massive guards would not fit well within the halls of the castle proper, and he would simply have to leave them behind.

Albus made certain to be in the room before Nobu'tan arrived, along with the judges, other champions, and the unfortunate Rita Skeeter and her cameraman. The absolute last thing he was going to allow was any sort of individual interview with the warlock, whether Skeeter wanted it or not.

"Shall we send someone to fetch Mr. Potter?" Ludo Bagman asked, but Albus shook his head.

"He shall not be tardy, just give him some time, it has been over a year since he walked these halls," Albus explained.

"And why exactly was that, Albus," Rita commented, quill already to parchment as she awaited an answer.

"You are already well aware the reason, having written it for the Prophet yourself, Rita, the boy was kidnapped by some dark magical creatures…" Albus said, sticking with the original story that they had supplied to the ministry.

"Ah, but come now Albus, surely you know more details that the public would desperately want to know, especially when the boy's picture appears with the other Champions." She pressed, and that made Albus think for a time. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could allow Rita to have some information, in exchange for some concessions.

He was about to make such an offer, when the door to the corridor outside flew open, revealing a towering figure, shouldering a massive battleaxe, and grunting in some unknown diabolic language.

Rita shrieked, and her cameraman immediately snapped a photo of the beast, but it ignored the flash of light, walking in and standing aside to open the way as Nobu'tan entered. Albus sighed in frustration, taking note of the boy's standard raiment, quite unlike anything that the modern witch or wizard wore, but more archaic in nature, black robes that was decorated with trinkets and other highly magical baubles, grasping a solid-looking, yet gnarled, staff in one hand as he walked, head held high with pride for what he was.

He could practically feel Rita's desperation to get the scoop of why the Boy-Who-Lived was dressed as a dark wizard, and it was only the presence of the demon that prevented her from approaching immediately to try and drag the boy into a broom cupboard for a private interview.

Sending a pointed look at the reporter, Albus said calmly, "We shall speak of matters later," before nodding to Ludo to begin the ceremony. Trying to keep his own eyes on the demon in the corner, Albus gave a quick rundown of why they were gathered, and introduced Garrick Ollivander, who approached from the far side of the room, and curiously unaffected by the presence of the unnatural creature by the door.

He proceeded to examine each of the wands of the three original champions in a solemn state, as though expecting to not find anything amiss, and most certainly not disappointed with his discoveries. But finally, he turned toward Nobu'tan.

"Good," the man said, handing back the Hornbeam wand of the Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum, "Which leaves us with, Mr. Potter…"

The boy stepped forward, opening a portion of his robes, which revealed the jeweled dagger that rested over his heart, and withdrew not one, but two different wands, before handing them and the staff over to the wand maker.

"Oh my, that is a fair number of implements you have gathered young man," Ollivander said, but proceeded with his investigations nevertheless. The first wand he examined, which looked to have come from his own shop, was returned quickly with a small frown, and a comment that it wasn't being used enough, before the man focused on the other wand in his hands, turning it over and over while carefully examining it.

"It's made of metal…" he commented, stating the obvious that all could plainly see, "And I cannot identify the core as something that I'm even remotely familiar with, however…"

And the man gave the metal wand a small wave, before frowning again when nothing happened.

"Is this a joke young man?" Ludo said as Ollivander returned the metal wand, but Nobu'tan merely smiled without a word, and flicked the metal wand, causing a small bolt of arcane magic to fly out and strike the far wall, leaving a tiny scorch mark there for all to see.

"Curious," Ollivander stated, looking at the metal wand once more before, with some careful prodding from both Albus and Ludo, he returned to the work he had been summoned for, and started to gaze deeply at the wooden staff.

Only a few seconds more he looked at it, before dropping the staff to the ground with a sharp intake of breath. "My boy…" he gasped, staring with horror at Nobu'tan, who quickly had summoned the staff back to his hand, "The horrific things that this tool has gone through. Never in all my life have I…"

But Albus cut across him, "Thank you all," he said, forestalling anything that the wand maker might reveal to their eager audience, "I believe that the _Daily Prophet_ wants to take some photographs to document the beginning of the Tournament, and then you are all free to return to your daily activities." This last part was given with a glance at Nobu'tan, which Albus hoped signaled the need for him to depart the castle immediately after they were concluded.

Albus knew that he was in for a most unpleasant discussion with the woman, once he saw that Rita wanted nothing more than pictures of Nobu'tan, although her contract demanded that she had a few of the other champions as well. Still, once the young people had been dismissed, and the horrid demon had left the room, Albus turned to her and motioned for her to join him, "My office, then, for your 'interview,'" he suggested.

Rita spoke the entire distance to the Head's office, but Albus remained silent. He had specifically warded his office from prying magic, knowing what Nobu'tan was more or less capable of, and it wouldn't do for the boy to learn of what was being devised against him.

"Alright Albus, enough of the cloak and dagger regarding this matter," Rita said the moment she took a seat before his desk, her cameraman idly snapping a few pictures of Fawkes, who preened and crooned at the attention.

Sighing deeply, and not liking that he had to deal with such an unpleasant woman, Albus sat and began slowly, "You know well enough that Harry had been kidnapped toward the end of school year almost two years ago correct?"

"Yes, yes, I know as much as the next person does, but that still doesn't answer the question of why the boy looks like he wants to become the next You-Know-Who…" she started, before pausing in her semi-rant. Her eyes widened and she turned to look at Albus with horror, "Are you suggesting…" she started

Knowing what she was already falsely concluding, Albus decided to prey upon that sense of fear. "He very well may have been 'convinced,' by one or more parties that had held him, to become some sort of conduit for them to rally around. Harry was gifted, even at a very young age, with all manner of magical talents. That was part of the reason that Lily and James hid him away from Voldemort," Rita shuddered at the sound of the name, "and why I continued in their stead when they were murdered. But something went wrong, and Harry vanished for nearly eleven years."

Rita slid forward onto the edge of her seat, her quill poised over parchment, a standard one and not her nasty Quick-Quotes variant that she used when she suspected that she was being lied to, as Albus elaborated on a story that more or less bordered the truth, only leaving out certain facts such as the plans of the Legion, and the overall motive of Nobu'tan himself, painting him as a misfortunate individual that had become wrapped up in something far greater than himself, with little means of escape. There may also have been hints of magical mind control, but Albus would wait to read what Rita was going to fully present in the next day's copy of the _Daily Prophet_.


	46. C45: Dragon's Fire

**Cautiously peers around corner... Oh good looks like no one wants to rip my head off this week, hopefully we can keep it that way... Moving on then, please enjoy the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Five**

 **Dragon's Fire**

Severus was most unhappy with the prospects of Potter being back at the castle. Not only did he now have to deal with the awful sensation of Dark magic being performed just outside the castle, but the near rebellion of his own Slytherins in openly throwing their support to the mad child was truly disgusting. Many of their parents, if not also members of the boy's circle, would be appalled to learn the deprave magic that their children were now learning.

Potions classes with them and the Gryffindors of fourth year or lower were now starting to look like the preparations of a war zone, with the contemptuous glares intensified between those who had thrown their alliance with Granger and those who served Draco. Severus had multiple times needed to throw in his own power over the Arcane to dispel elementals or demons, as well as shield other students from projectiles that were hurled with reckless anger across the already volatile room. Many detentions were given, but it seemed that the concept of punishment and discipline in his classes was all but gone.

The other teachers were complaining about similar issues throughout the school and even in the corridors, but the worst of it was during meals in the Great Hall. The students were not blind to their teacher's plight, and were slowly being filtered into three camps, siding with either Granger and taking steps toward learning the Arcane, Draco and the Fel, or sliding down their tables as close to the Professors and hoping that they could remain neutral in this as long as possible.

It grew worse every day that the First Task grew closer, and Severus knew that it was even infecting some of the foreign visitors. Madam Maxime had already strongly reprimanded one of her students for getting involved, the boy having learned a few of the basic steps for Arcane Magic, and had been caught showing them to his fellow Beauxbatons students. The boy had not been able to sit for a full day without a look of intense pain, not that it stopped his or the other foreign student's curiosity.

"How long do you intend for this to go on Albus?" Severus demanded one day in the Headmaster's office, when the other professors had come to Severus of all people, to once again complain of near full blow magical duels breaking out in their classrooms. "The students are getting ready to tear each other apart; all on account of that horror of a child that you insist that we allow to wander the grounds, and not even deny his access to any of the students if they approach him!"

This was true. Nobu'tan had often been seen sitting outside his large tent on the grounds, chatting with Mages or Warlocks alike, teaching this or that trick of each art, as though he was perfectly neutral in their strife. Granted, Severus knew there was little they could to do hinder the boy, as his guards were never far from his side, and if he was requested within the castle, he summoned demons to follow him where the trolls had been forbidden.

It was a nightmarish situation, and the Headmaster had to take charge, but for some reason, Albus continued to delay. "What would you have me do, Severus?" Albus questioned in return, turning back to look at the Potions Master from where the Headmaster had been gazing out of one of his tower windows, "duel Nobu'tan here and now? Allow him the opportunity for the revenge he clearly harbors? Or perhaps I should start expelling students for practicing magic that has no official Ministry ban on its use? I am sorry, but more or less I am powerless beyond what the Board of Governors will allow us to do as faculty."

"So you intend to do nothing?" Severus accused, and immediately regretted his words when the old man before him turned dangerously cold. The room seemed to darken as the magic around Albus seemed to draw into the man, "I will not stand idly by while this madness is occurring, but what you ask, and desire in your heart is beyond the question."

A note flared to life out of the fireplace, and Albus hurried to it, dropping the conversation and allowing the temperature of the room to return to normal as he read. "This might just be the answer to our problem," he said carefully, setting the letter on his desk. "The Ministry is sending some Unspeakables to investigate the powers of the Arcane and the Fel, and determine what they should do regarding them. Apparently it finally leaked out that new magic was discovered here. Realistically I'm surprised it stayed a secret this long."

"So you intend to let the Ministry make their move first, before taking action…" Severus said, realization dawning upon him. He had been foolish to presume that Albus was allowing anything to go without acting regarding it, forgetting that even the man before him had proper channels that he had to act through. Albus waved off the guilt that Severus was feeling, as it must have shown on his face, and answered as though he already knew what Severus was thinking.

"I understand, truly I do. Many people think that because I am who I am, that I can simply do whatever it is I please without regard for the Ministry or the rules of the governments that I both support and sit on. While in some cases that can be true, where the law has no jurisdiction, or where I know it better than any other, there are times, rare though they may be, where even I must abide by those things I've sworn to uphold, else I would be as evil and dark as those Lords who I have fought, and will continue to fight until I pass beyond this world."

It was sobering to hear Albus speak so candidly about death, but Severus held his tongue, choosing instead to change the subject to something less uncomfortable, "So when will the Ministry send these new representatives?" he asked.

"The day of the First Task," Albus answered, "I recommended that as the best day, as it is still highly likely that Nobu'tan will use one or both energies during the task. Honestly, I wonder at the last time the boy chose to use his wand over those powers…"

Severus had no reply; mentally calculating that Albus meant the delegation would arrive at the end of the week, which wasn't soon enough, but better than what could have been hoped for given the circumstances of it being an official Ministry investigation. "Will they bring more Aurors?" he asked.

"Undoubtedly," Albus replied, "but I advised them against confronting Nobu'tan, or anyone that used these new types of magic directly, unless they wanted another problem to arise like the last time, and the Head Unspeakable agreed. They will observe only, and return to make their report before taking any action."

"I hope that they stick to that, for their sakes," Severus replied, "but that still does little for our current problems with the rest of the student body, and their attempts to start a school-wide conflict between Mages and Warlocks…"

"I cannot see anything working, Severus, short of raising wards that block spell casting altogether throughout the castle…" Albus said, but Severus was already leaping at the idea, regardless if the Headmaster wanting such a thing.

"Then do it, make it so that the Professors can suppress magic in their rooms and the corridors, so that things can be safe for our students once again." he pleaded, knowing that the old man would be more than hesitant to commit to such action.

"We won't even know if it affects the powers that they are using to fight; it might just prevent those caught in between from defending themselves." Albus tried, but Severus already had a counter.

"We test it, if it can block us from using the Arcane, then it will certainly work on the children…" he insisted. Albus looked thoughtful, and Severus thought he spotted the specific twinkle return to the man's eyes that would indicate that he had had a brilliant idea.

"Yes," he said at last, the amusement in his face returning marginally for the first time in months, "yes I think there just might be a way to make it work, and we can use it to completely handicap Nobu'tan during the Tournament as well, so long as we can isolate the field to blocking non wand-based magic."

Severus almost sighed in relief. The Dumbledore he had known for almost twelve years had returned, and they had a chance once again. The old man rose quickly, drawing his wand as he did so. "Conjure your water elemental, I need to catch a trace of Arcane magic to begin creating a ward against it." Albus instructed, and Severus quickly obeyed. The Headmaster smirked as he flourished his wand, before directing it at a small spot of his office, drawing what looked like a circle on the floor.

"Now stand in the circle and try to cast any spell of the Arcane," Albus urged, and Severus gladly went, stepping in and moving through the steps that normally conjured icicles upon his fingers, but nothing happened. It felt as though he had been cut off from the Ley lines completely when he tried.

"Nothing, I cannot cast it," Severus said, looking hopeful.

"Another, not a frost spell, try fire next," Albus insisted, having Severus run through a battery of tests. Slight tweaks to the circle had to be made, as apparently each connection was somewhat different, but after around a half hour after midnight they had a ward circle that blocked the Arcane and all its aspects completely, up to a level of power that Severus possessed.

Albus had then tested the circle, and was more than able to cast, overpowering the strength of the ward easily. Neither of them were deterred however, as they would be able to modify the circle for various strength levels easily enough, and as it stood that would block most of the students from casting Arcane spells at each other once the wards were placed in strategic locations.

"Now we just need some samples of Fel Magic to prime the circle against as well." Albus said, thinking hard, "I doubt we'd stop Nobu'tan or his guards from casting, but that isn't the primary concern at the moment, more of a long-term goal."

On they went for hours, theorizing how best to get sample of the dark warlock magic without being found out too soon, well into the night, and Albus was still going when Severus finally took his leave to get some rest for the next day, a spring in his step again at the chance to regain control of their school from the forced that threatened to pull it apart at the seams.

Casually, he stopped by the other three Heads of House's offices as we went down to the dungeons, relaying the news of their plan to them in secret, to pass along to the other teachers over the next few days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan could sense that something was different in the air. From just outside his tent, but well within the ward stones that protected it from outside influence, he could just feel that the aura of fear around the castle had lessened of late. The First Task was drawing ever nearer, set for the end of that particular week for that matter, and there was little that he had done to prepare for whatever it entailed.

Not that he was going to play by their rules regardless of the challenge. Nobu'tan was here not by choice, and therefore his wrath would be met out on the rightful parties, Dumbledore and the Tournament itself. That was why he had so eagerly allowed the Mages and Warlocks to turn on each other, offering each of them insight to their powers that they had not as of yet achieved, only marginally hinting that their magic may have been hindered by the other in some way to increase the animosity between both groups.

But now that the unknown task was less than a week away, Nobu'tan felt that he ought to at least do something to act like he was preparing for it, annoying and foolish though it was. Perhaps a journey into the forest to collect more soul shards would be in order…

Naturally, as he was no longer an official student of Hogwarts, he could not be reprimanded for going into the forest, although he knew that it was still standard practice for his warlocks to venture in at night from time to time, a rite of passage as it were.

Standing beside the small fire that was keeping the immediate area warm, Nobu'tan summoned Teg'Ramm and one of the other ogre mages, and started toward the trees, wondering what they might encounter this time in the forest, and how likely it was for them to be stopped by someone, thinking that they had some measure of control over him.

But they entered past the tree line without incident, and Nobu'tan started to smirk to himself at how easy it would be to just up and leave. Or at least it would be if not for the blasted magic holding him here, he thought angrily as the goblet's magic caused a small burning sensation to rush through the warlock's chest, which wiped the smile from his face in a flash.

The three warlocks quickly set about scouting the area for something to hunt, in order to sharpen their skills and take the stress of the situation from them for a time, Eyes of Kil'rogg flying in every direction to allow them vision.

For a time there was nothing, which greatly concerned Nobu'tan, as he had recalled there being a great number of creatures within these trees the last time he had appeared, which was only the summer prior, so there couldn't have been a mass exodus without some reason behind it.

"I have found something," Teg'Ramm spoke, eyes closed as he stared through one of the eyes of his own creation.

"What do you see?" Nobu'tan questioned.

"There are humans in the forest," the Ogre Magi replied, "guarding large crates that contain creatures within them, which fight against their restraints with great violence and breathe fire from their mouths in angry protest."

That piqued Nobu'tan's interest. "Let us go and investigate further," he said, taking off in the direction that Teg'Ramm indicated that the creatures were. It didn't take long to find them, especially as the bursts of flame started to become visible through the dense foliage.

Nobu'tan peered around the wide trunk of a tree, the Ogre's hidden further back to avoid any unwanted attention, but both were watching the scene through their magical eyes as well. Four massive cages, each housing a massive dragon were set in a scorched clearing, with many wizards running about trying to calm or stun each of the mighty beasts.

Watching intently, the warlock spotted some of the workers quickly placing clutches of eggs into or near the various dragons, which led him to believe that these were nesting mothers. Dragons were a rarity in Azeroth, but existed and were extremely powerful, so when he had been returned here, Nobu'tan had hoped to further his research on the mighty beasts. He had learned much about the creatures before him, albeit he was still vastly disappointed from what he had expected to find so early in his ability to first read the English language.

Still, the information he had would be greatly useful in defeating one of the powerful behemoths, and doing whatever it was that they wanted him to do regarding it for their precious Tournament.

Subtly a branch snapped off to the side, in the trees, and Nobu'tan stooped lower, glancing about in the gloom and shadows cast from the bursts of flame in the dragon cages. There were figures hiding in the trees, much as he was, although far more ineptly. Nobu'tan recognized the figure of Igor Karkaroff, even as the man turned to sneak away, presumably to tell his own champion of what he had seen.

Meanwhile there were two hulking figures, which were clearly not his Ogres, hiding in the very back behind a line of bushes. One was the ground keeper, Hagrid, while the other was the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Nobu'tan had only seen this woman a mere handful of times, but seeing her now, towering over even Hagrid's impressive height, there was no doubt that they shared a common ancestry. Personally, Nobu'tan couldn't bring himself to care, but there was a small part of him that was impressed that the frightfully gentle man had found someone that he was smitten with, even if it was apparent that she was merely using him.

Slowly, Nobu'tan backed away from the clearing, making for his own departure. The night was still young, and at the least there was still the massive colony of spiders that he could assist in purging for practice, while his mind riddled out what he was supposed to do against a fully grown dragon.

Dragons… Nobu'tan smirked at the prospect of facing a true challenge for the First Task as he rejoined his guard and made for the heart of the forest. Perhaps this little Tournament wouldn't be so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius sensed the portal rip through space and time to his office, but only a small imp emerged, bearing a letter carefully in its claws, smelling of brimstone and some other Fel energy. The aristocrat took the missive from the demon, and dismissed it with a grateful nod, before returning to his desk.

It was clear that the letter was from Lord Nobu'tan, an update that he had promised to keep sending to the rest of the Order while he was summoned to the stronghold of their enemy, and regarding the proceedings at Hogwarts.

It would be good to hear from a more reasonable perspective than his own son, Lucius thought as he opened the seal on the back, wax that had been pressed with a metal symbol of the Order of the Black Harvest, and enchanted that only a member of the Council could open it.

Eagerly, Lucius read the missive.

' _Lucius,_

 _The Tournament is days from its first task, and I have already stumbled upon their poorly crafted secret challenge for it. Dragons are being hidden out in the forest, one per champion; myself included, and are being given eggs to guard._

 _Clearly some benign test of courage to see who we can come up with via out magic to surpass even the Dragonfire, but the outcome of that is irrelevant. No dragon of this world can stand up to my power._

 _What is more important at this time for you to be aware of is the unrest that I have instigated within the school. Warlocks under the directive of your son are starting to openly oppose both Dumbledore and the Mages that are taught by Muggleborn Hermione Granger._

 _Granted, I have taught both of them in their respected arts well, and I don't deny that it is a possibility for full scale combat to break out, and soon, but it is all a massive distraction so that I may plan when to strike at Dumbledore for the Elder Wand. For the time being I will continue to bide and wait for the perfect opportunity. I will play their games, and it is likely you would wish to witness the First Task yourself, just to see what we are truly capable of as servants of the Legion._

 _Also, the Ministry is starting to look in places they have no business, if you can do anything to delay or misdirect them from my trail it would be most useful to our cause._

 _Nobu'tan_ '

Sighing as he quickly ignited the evidence of his contact with Nobu'tan, Lucius quickly pondered the problem. He was already well aware of the Ministry investigation of Nobu'tan, as the boy wasn't exactly subtle when he didn't feel like it, and Fudge was already quite outraged at the number of Auror losses and the fact that 'trolls' were taking up residence on Hogwart's grounds, forget anything to do with how the school's operation was not a Ministry matter.

And once that pig headed little man got his mind to something, he would obsess until forced to turn out of his path and leave things well enough alone. Lucius could at least however, go and investigate what exactly the Unspeakables were up to, as he knew that they were the next link in the chain of authority that Fudge would turn to, if Amelia's people failed him.

Traveling to Hogwarts with Narcissa to watch this first event would also be most amusing, if not only for the fact that he had more than enough right to do so, being related not only to a student but more distantly to one of the champions, unless Dumbledore felt that the boy's muggle relatives would turn up to claim the kinship right of visitation before they could, which was laughable from what he had learned about them from the boy.

The matter with this Muggleborn, Granger, and his son was troubling however, and Lucius wasn't exactly certain what subtle undercurrent of a scheme that Nobu'tan was plotting with it could be. The boy clearly had more up his sleeve then just added pressure to blind the old Headmaster and probing for potential opportunities to snatch the man's wand from under his hooked nose.

Summoning a House Elf, Lucius instructed the little servant to inform his wife that they were in for a treat that weekend, and would be going to Hogwarts to watch the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament in person. The elf bowed low, and was gone in an instant.

Turning back to a few forms and unfinished letters to the other members of the Order, Lucius returned to work, knowing that there was a sense of urgency now. Things had been ever in motion, to be true, but now they were preparing to accelerate at an unprecedented rate, if Lucius' hunch was anything close to correct.

Nobu'tan would be putting intense amounts of unwanted attention on Dumbledore, through both his ability to affect the Hogwart's students without actually living inside the castle, as well as through the Tournament.

True, the old man wasn't taking this without a fight, as proof by the article written by Rita Skeeter in the _Daily Prophet_. Not only was there a piece regarding the Tournament, much smaller than it ought to have been, but it had apparently been needed out of the way of the much larger article that was a private interview with the Headmaster, regarding the situation of Harry Potter, his past and the recent events that occurred up to his 'kidnapping,' and subsequent return.

Lucius saw right through what the façade was: a veil to hide the old man's true motives for keeping the boy on the grounds. And it seemed that Skeeter was also putting the pieces together, as there were more than enough times that she had asked pointed questions, things regarding to the Headmaster's already close knowledge regarding the boy and his activities since his reappearance three years prior, that the old man had simply deflected or gave flashy but altogether flimsy explanations about.

Perhaps it would be pertinent, if the reporter was present to write regarding the First Task, to see about giving another side of the story, one that involved when Lucius first became aware of the ingenious Potter Heir and his captivating tale regarding Dumbledore's actions since the boy returned.

It would only make sense, Lucius would reason, when he was questions about such an article, as the boy was kidnapped right from his own house, even if he was not personally there to anyone's knowledge, and therefore somewhat familiar with the boy, as far as the parent of a second cousin could be…

All of a sudden, Lucius was now looking forward to the First Task with great interest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione could sense the excitement running through the castle the day of the First Task. Even the Arcane was flourishing with energy, although that could also be because of the near daily active use that it was getting from dozens more Mages in training from all parts of the school, and even a few of the more reasonable foreign students that had shown aptitude and interest.

Having Harry on the grounds of the school had made Hermione significantly more bold regarding the teaching and use of the Arcane, especially with the advent of learning that Draco and his group of Slytherins, which had also expanded to include some of the darker Ravenclaws and much of the Durmstrang ground of children, had started using their powers in the open, as a sort of intimidation tactic on the staff.

It was a tactic that would not work on Hermione however, but in the end, that was neither here nor there as the First Task approached. Lunch went by with a powerful sense of both foreboding and excitement, and there was an unusual stillness in the air as every seemed to wait with bated breath for Professor Dumbledore to dismiss the Champions to prepare for the event.

She could see the muttering along the Slytherin table, where the students from Durmstrang were also seated, although for a moment one of the boys looked across at her, with an odd look of curiosity, but she ignored it at the moment finally arrived and the Headmaster rose. "We will now ask the Champions to head to the pavilion on the grounds for their preparation for the First Task, the rest of the students will please wait to head down until roughly ten minutes after the hour for seating to open, thank you."

Three seats were pushed back, and Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff, the odd, slightly rude girl, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, as well as the Durmstrang boy who had looked over at her, Victor Krum, all arose and started for the doors, even as the entire Hall grew dead silent. Even the hideous little imps that many of the Slytherin's had with them were watching the events unfold with muted expressions.

Moments after that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore had some private words, and the Transfiguration Mistress arose and departed the hall as well, leaving them all to their meal. Hermione chose to pass the time with jotting down a few more ideas on how to improve their classes regarding the usage of Arcane magic, and how to adapt it to people still learning the great secret that it existed at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan watched the three other 'champions,' make their way across the grounds toward the large pavilion at the edge of the forest, which clearly was the encasement for where the task would be with the dragons, but he made no move to follow them. Just because he too was a selected individual, and looking forward to facing against the great beast, didn't mean he had to make it easy for them to coerce him to play their game.

Minutes later one of the Professors started toward his tent, and Nobu'tan held up a hand to prevent the ogre magi from stopping her.

"Professor McGonagall, what a pleasant surprise," he said casually, prodding the still smoldering fire upon which his bodyguards had been cooking their own food. Nobu'tan had been supplied from the school kitchens, the elves treating him as a resident of the school and therefore one of the students regardless of what the wizards desired, but his servants were left to find their own meals.

"Mr. Potter," she said by way of greeting, "I am here to inform you that the Champions are requested to meet in the pavilion just there across the grounds for the start of the First Task, if you'll accompany me, I will guide you to the correct entrance."

Nobu'tan hadn't the heart to be offensive to one of the teachers he had actually liked during his two year stay at the school, so he nodded and rose, two of his ogre magi rising in unison to flank the pair of humans, the other pair having been sent back to Malfoy Manor for a time, mainly to gather more supplies for the other warlocks. Whether this made the Transfiguration Mistress uncomfortable she never indicated whatsoever, which only made her more impressive to the young warlock.

"I just want you to know," he said as they walked, "that I do not hold you, or anyone in the castle apart from Dumbledore responsible for this or whatever happens afterward, and I will do whatever I can within my power to lessen the blow if it comes to violence on my part. I do not seek to fight you people, but there are aspects of the Headmaster's wishes that I cannot abide by, and he quite feels the same."

Nobu'tan wasn't sure why he felt the need to give Professor McGonagall this sort of warning, but it felt like the right thing to do. It certainly wasn't an apology, not by a long shot, but perhaps more of an explanation. And for the most part it was true, he wished no ill will toward any of the students or staff of Hogwarts, aside from those who directly opposed him in finding a way back to Azeroth, even though the Legion likely would kill them all without a second thought.

"Understood," McGonagall replied, although it was clear that she wasn't completely sure what Nobu'tan had meant. They arrived at the pavilion, and she held the canvas flap open for him, "For what it's worth," she said softly before he entered, "You were and still are one of the brightest and eager to learn students I have ever taught, and I was truly saddened when you left us. Whatever this unfortunate business is, I hope that it can be resolved and you can return to learning all there is to know about magic. You have incredible talent, and the drive to back up any goal you set yourself. I was rather disappointed when you went into Filius' house rather than my own, but you were still a joy to teach."

It was odd, but Nobu'tan could tell that the Professor meant her words, and had used the exact same tone by which he had explained himself. "Your… guards, will have to wait outside the tent, but they may move to a more suitable location to watch the event and… intervene if they feel the need to…" Professor McGonagall added, gesturing at a spot just around from the tent entrance that overlooked the inside of whatever stadium was on the other side.

"Many thanks," Nobu'tan responded, gesturing for Teg'Ramm and his fellow to take up position there and keep watch, while he entered alone.

The other Champions were waiting there, along with one of the Ministry representatives for the Tournament. "And there's Champions number four," he said jovially, beckoning for them all together around him, even as the sounds of many feet started to come from the direction of the castle.

"The crowd will be here soon, so let's get the show on the road shall we?" he said, gingerly shaking a deep velvet bag in his hand, which was smoking ominously from the top. "Ladies first I suppose," the official said, offering the bag to Miss Delacour, "Just reach inside and take out one small model of what you'll be facing. There are different… err… varieties, you see. You task is to collect the golden egg."

The girl reached in tentatively and pulled out a small model of a dragon, a common Welsh Green, from what Nobu'tan's research told him, with a number two around its neck. One by one the others were offered the bag, and Diggory received the Swedish Short Snout and the number one, Krum the Chinese Fireball with number three, and Nobu'tan the Hungarian Horntail, naturally the most vicious of the lot, and the last number.

"Well, there you are," the official stated when the last dragon was pulled from the bag, "you have each pulled out a model of the dragon you are going to face, and the number is the order you will attempt the Task in. I will be leaving you in a moment, as I am commentating for the Task, just enter the enclosure, Mr. Diggory, when you hear the whistle, all right?"

The other boy nodded, and Nobu'tan turned to wander to a far side of the tent, if anything to avoid the stares from the other three champions once the official left the tent. Being effectively banned from the castle, Nobu'tan was something of a mystery to most of the student body, and therefore in combination with his appearance and distinct aura of darkness, properly emphasized by his original entrance, the others were rightfully nervous in his presence.

Soon enough they were distracted from their whispered conversations by the blast of the whistle, and Diggory departed, allow the other three champions to listen in on the commentary as he battled his dragon. Nobu'tan blocked it out, slowly pacing his corner of the room as he gathered as much Fel and Arcane magic to him as he could in preparation for his dragon. He had the most time, and was going to put it to good use.

Fifteen minutes later, the whistle blasted again, and Delacour was summoned forth. Diggory did not return, so Krum was left on one side of the room as Nobu'tan continued his preparations. It was an odd thing, the young warlock recalled, that Krum was among the faction of the Durmstrang children that had not cared for learning the Fel in the slightest while he was at their school, but in the end he did not care.

Another ten minutes passed before the whistle sounded again, and Krum departed, leaving Nobu'tan alone at last. Quickly, he snapped out several spells, calling imps and other lesser demons to him, before draining them of their souls, placing the variously colored gem-like crystals into an easily accessible pouch at his waist. No need to let anyone not initiated see his magic up close and personal, not that many would not be seeing a great display of the power of the Legion soon enough.

A significantly shorter time later, the whistle blew a final time, interrupting the thoughts that the leader of the Order of the Black Harvest was invested in, pondering easy strategies and other methods he could use in defeating such a beast, the true objective irrelevant to him.

Leaving the tent, Nobu'tan spotted the small entrance in the enclosure, where his ogre magi were waiting for him to pass. Teg'Ramm sent a pair of encouraging nods his direction, unneeded though they were, but the warlock appreciated that his minions actually cared for his wellbeing all the same.

Hundreds of faces stared down from the outlying stands surrounding the enclosure, and the dragon waited for him at the other end of the arena, crouching low over a nest of eggs, its eyes a hideous shade of yellow and glaring threatening at him, daring the warlock to advance further and face a fiery death.

But the warlock did not fear the great lizard, neither the spiked tail that it thrashed upon the ground as a warning. Stepping fully into the arena, the Warlock set to work. The dragon would be less than willing to depart the nest unless forced away, and so diversions would be needed before he could slay the beast and claim his prize.

Raising his staff into the air, Nobu'tan chanting in orcish, calling forth more demonic forces, Felguards and Imps primarily, to harass nearer to the dragon, and pepper its hide with flames. The crowd gasped in horror and shock at the display, but Nobu'tan was deaf to them, focused solely on what was for him a mighty challenge.

He would not show more of his abilities than he needed however, better to have a few tricks unknown for when the inevitable duel with Dumbledore occurred, but he would have some fun here at the least. Sending some Fel flames at the dragon, he heard the satisfying roar of pain as the cursed fire struck its hide, surprising the dragon that normally had no fear of anything that burned.

It reared its head back and shot gouts of flames in retaliation, but a quick spell summoned a Void Walker to intercept the attack, flames burning its shadowy body and leaving the rocks around the demon charred black. Nobu'tan started to slowly circle the enclosure, drawing slightly nearer to the nest and the Dragon, which became greatly agitated from all the smaller creatures suddenly so close to it.

It raked and slashed at anything that got too close, but for every demon it managed to slay, Nobu'tan simply summoned two more. He needed the dragon to move, and soon. Fishing out a shard of demonic soul, he shattered it in hand and channeled a great ball of supernatural flames, drawing the extra magic that the demonic essence provided and hurling it at the dragon's head.

It struck just under the eye, making the dragon rear up again, and stomp its feet around the nest in rage, before at last it waded into battle at the challenge, claws and tail slapping at demons as they encircled it. Nobu'tan smirked, even as the dragon made it to the center of the enclosure, for he had it right where he wanted.

Tapping his staff on the stones sharply, he raised it up and beckoned a Fel meteorite down from the Twisting Nether, and the massive stone plummeted like a green boulder hurled by a far off catapult, striking the back of the dragon and sending it crashing to the ground in pain. The Infernal rose up then, its molten rock body searing even the dragon's tough scales. Felguards rushed all sides, hacking with their axes while Imps sent jets of flames at the exposed soft tissues of the creature, which thrashed and rolled several times, trying to crush its opposition.

Nobu'tan watched for a moment or two in amusement, standing by the nest but refusing to so much as touch the golden egg, which was nestled in the center of the other far more real eggs. He wanted to make sure such a creature was thoroughly beaten, if not dead before he ended this little game.

Gathering the raw chaotic energy of the Nether to himself, Nobu'tan delivered the final strike while the dragon was thoroughly engaged with his minions. True, there were half a dozen other ways that he could kill the great beast, but the destructive missile was one that was the least conspicuous, and only Dumbledore and his immediate circle had seen other abilities. Nobu'tan knew that secrecy, in whatever limited form he had left by holding his rarer powers close to his chest until he absolutely needed them, was paramount now.

His eyes of Kil'rogg had seen the Ministry people returned to the castle grounds sometime earlier, with strange instruments hidden within their dark grey cloak, while other Aurors came to speak with the Headmaster. Some of those men were even now in the crowd, and he had a feeling that they were trying to determine what exactly the Fel could mean toward their society, possibly whether to declare it 'dark magic,' and try in more earnestness to have Nobu'tan arrested.

The bolt of pure chaos struck the dragon in the head, sending it to the grounds once more as a horrible cracking sound rang through the arena. The toughened scales had worked well to prevent the dangerous magic from ripping through the tissue of the creature, but the physical force of impact was enough in its current position to whip the massive neck around and break the spinal column from the sheer momentum.

The demons stood guard over the corpse of the dragon, even as Nobu'tan sighed, disappointed at the lack of fight that the creature had been able to put up, and scooped the little golden egg from the ground, much to the stunned silence of most of the crowd, although the stands of his supporters were already cheering and clapping for him.

Eventually, the announcer returned to his senses, "…Ah, yes of course, and there you have it… the fourth champion has, um well, defeated his dragon and claimed the golden egg… Although I cannot truly say how he accomplished it, but we'll let the judges handle the scoring!"

Nobu'tan wasn't listening, already moving back toward his ogre magi guards, and away from the angry dragon keepers that came to mourn over their lost beast. The demons had been dismissed, and all was done for this pointless task. Whatever he was supposed to do with this egg, Nobu'tan was sure he would find out when it was important, or just improvise along the way.

Personally, he wanted to get back to his protected clearing and see just what the Ministry people were up to with their snooping around, and whether Dumbledore had anything to do with it as well. Hopefully, they were here studying both the Arcane and the Fel, and therefore causing just as much a headache to the old wizards as to Nobu'tan, rather than working him.

An alliance between the aged Headmaster and the Ministry would be an annoying complication.


	47. C46: Grand Designs

**Wow, I can't believe were finally on the chapters in my second rough draft document... yes the first one grew so large that i had to open a new one and continue. More impressively I haven't had to fight off assasins from my readers these last two weeks, just the normal ones from other sources, which was a relief.**

 **As a point of interst, for those of you inclined to review or leave a brief note, tell me something you want to see happen somewhere along the lines of the WoW timeline with our characters, anything fron Vanilla to Legion... i may only be fishing for ideas here, but there is simply so much that's coverable and while i have my plans, there are quite a number of characters that nearly anything is possible. meanwhile, enjoy the current chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Six**

 **Grand Designs**

Alastor decided to be present in Albus office after the First Task while the Unspeakable concluded his survey of the 'strange anomalies of magic,' as they had been calling the increase usage of Fel and Arcane magic around Hogwarts.

It was almost amusing to watch them wander the halls of the castle from time to time getting a full view of all the magic that occurred, and with the grand finally of what Potter decided to display to kill, not simply evade and avoid, his dragon.

Most of the judges, Albus included, hadn't had a clue how to score such a performance, as by all rights it had fulfilled the requirements of the task. They simply hadn't expected the boy to be powerful enough to harm, let alone kill, a dragon. In the end they gave the boy scores to put him in the middle of the running, but the young warlock had already left, not caring a whit about the competitive side of the tasks.

Not that Alastor could blame him, even if he didn't like the child there was a sense of unfairness in forcing the boy to compete without his say so, and he would have fought against such a move if not for the threat of the Legion should the boy be allowed to wander free for so long unobserved.

"Headmaster," the Unspeakable, Broderick Bode, stated, just after putting the finishing touches on a roll of parchment, clearly his report for the Ministry, "is it my opinion that there is a great deal more going on at this school than you, or any of the others involved with these happenings are letting on."

The scroll sealed itself and the grey-clad wizard stuffed it into his sleeve for safekeeping, "I believe that this power that you call the 'Arcane,' to be benign, neither good or evil, light nor dark. It is magic in its purest form, and that you along with so many of your students can wield it is impressive. The Ministry will want to learn these techniques as soon as possible to instruct others in its art, for the betterment of all wizard-kind."

Albus nodded appreciatively, but Alastor knew that the Headmaster wanted to do nothing of the sort, not to keep such power from others, but to prevent its misuse by those who would abuse the might of the Arcane for their own ends.

"This other energy, the 'Fel,' on the other hand," Bode continued, growing grave, "it is irrevocably Dark in nature, and I would daresay that its qualifications would land it squarely in the blackest of any magic that I have ever encountered. That… exhibition that young Mr. Potter displayed was wholly sickening and unnatural at best, and those fiendish creatures have no good will toward anything but those that command them."

The red robed Aurors twitched slightly as Bode continued, "It is my advisement that the Ministry immediately take Mr. Potter and his compatriots into custody, for study and imprisonment for practicing such a black art, and for the safety of all others that may come into contact with him."

Alastor snorted loudly, causing everyone in the room to look at him, "Go ahead and try to arrest him," the scarred Auror stated, shrugging as he paced around the Albus' side of the room, "Aurors already came to apprehend him for his brutish bodyguards if you recall, they are mostly dead now…"

The Unspeakable nodded, but spoke again, "That was before, now _we_ are involved, and will see this thing done, for the safety of our world. You yourselves admit that this boy is a great danger, even if you refuse to speak it to us. Otherwise why is he permitted on the grounds but not within the castle? There is something going on that is of a greater matter yet, and we must discover it."

"You must do what you think is best," Albus said, turning back to his desk of paperwork regarding the Tournament, primarily complaints at the death of the Hungarian Horntail that had been brought at great cost for the First Task.

"That we must indeed," Bode said, turning to leave with his Aurors. Alastor waited until they had departed through the Floo to speak again.

"You think the Unspeakables have a chance to stop him now?" he asked, and Albus simply sighed in frustration.

"They are more than willing to try, but I don't think it will do much more than slow Nobu'tan down in the long run. Only those with the Arcane or even the Fel can stand up to him and his minions. But it may buy us some much needed time."

"That, or the collateral damage will shake the foundation of our world, and who knows what will happen then…" Alastor countered, "We have the boy here, why can't we do anything?"

"I am working on methods of limiting his powers," Albus declared, something that Alastor did already know, "It just takes time, and attuning it to Fel magic when we have none on our side that wield that magic is difficult."

"Why not just use an inhibitor on all magic?" Alastor suggested, but Albus was already shaking his head. "That only works when the power for magic comes from the individual themselves, whereas the Arcane and the Fel are channeled from without. It's finding that connection to whatever source the Fel is and blocking it that is taking so long to implement."

Alastor grumbled something unintelligible to himself, and turned to leave, "I'll keep watch when the Ministry fools try to make their move, and report what happens." He said as he departed.

"I just hope there are fewer deaths this time than the last…" Albus replied, not moving from behind his desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione was thoroughly disgusted with the display that she had seen at the First Task. Dragons were dangerous beasts, to be sure, but the method of which Harry used to torment and kill his, as opposed to just navigating around it like the other Champions had, had just been cruel.

There was also the fact that the boy had almost solely relied on the dark styled magic of the Slytherins rather than the Arcane, which was concerning in and of itself, but regarding that as well as his constant companions of the massive two-headed trolls, she had no answers, nor had she opportunity to ask such delicate questions of the boy yet.

Although at the moment she was not sure whether she wanted to go and ask him anything every again, with the dark path that the boy seemed to be following… But then again, was he really following it because he wanted to, or because he was forced to? It was all so confusing, and Hermione often over the next week of classes found herself glancing out into the grounds from the high castle windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy out and about his massive tent. It was started to get colder, and she wondered if someone had thought to bring him warm things to wear or cast charms around his area to protect the tent from the elements.

That was when the plan formulated in her mind, and with a quick trip to the kitchens, upon recommendation from the Weasley Twins she had all the items she could possibly need to justify her visit, Hermione was off across the chilly grounds, heavy blankets and other items in her arms as she made her way toward Harry's tent.

The massive guards watched her approach, but made no moves to hinder her, although the looks that they were sending her were almost enough to make her reconsider her decision. Gathering her courage, she continued on regardless, and they did however open the flap of the tent for her as she passed.

The inside of the tent was extraordinarily warm, and Hermione immediately knew that her cover of bringing warm blankets and other items was pointless. The air felt heavy, and there was a distinct smell of incense or other things in the air. Many interesting items and other relics that hummed with magic were strewn about, and Harry himself was in the middle of the room, eyes shut in a meditative pose, but within moments he opened them and smiled at her, standing to greet her properly.

"Ah, Hermione, what a pleasant surprise... What can I do for you, here in my humble abode?" he said, gesturing for her to have a seat in one of the small stool-like chairs that were scattered around various tables.

"Well, you see," Hermione started, still somewhat unnerved by the strangeness of the inside of the tent. With all the items and clearly project materials that were here, it seemed less likely that the boy was a prisoner, at least of the two creatures that were outside right that instant, but she had to be sure, "I came to check on you…"

"Ah, you were worried about my performance at the First Task…" Harry finished, moving away toward a small fire pit that had been set into the side of the tent, covered from getting too large and the smoke funneled out of a small protected hole in the ceiling.

Her concern must have show on her face, as Harry turned back and continued speaking, "It wasn't my idea or intention, but I am being watched, and have to play the part I was given to survive for the time being."

The confirmation was gladly accepted by Hermione, and she relaxed almost at once knowing that the boy was not some power driven monster. But there were still nagging questions that she had to have answers for. "Why?" she started, but he held up a hand to forestall her.

"There isn't much I can say without them overhearing, but I can tell you a small amount… namely to not worry about me, I have everything slowly working to my favor, and I will be free of these oppressors soon enough. I simply need to play their game a short time longer before I can make my escape, possibly with one of their great tools, and then all will be right again."

Hermione wasn't exactly sure what the boy was referencing, but it sounded like a good thing that he was already devising a method for his freedom, and soon he would be able to return to Hogwarts as a normal student. It would be wonderful, and they would all learn of this earth changing magic once again.

She was broken out of her happy thoughts by several loud cracking sounds from outside, and Harry visibly groaned. "What now…" he said, almost sounding bitter. He strode to the tent flap and peered out, before quickly ducking back inside and turning to her, "You need to leave, now," he said, ushering her to the back of the tent, where another exit awaited, "circle around and double back toward the castle, do not look back, you won't like what you'll see."

"Harry, what? I don't under…" she started, confused at his sudden abruptness, but he interrupted her, "There's no time; you must leave before they arrive."

Her eyes snapped wide, the people who kidnapped him were coming, and she had to get away so they didn't know he was plotting against them. Nodding her understanding, she bolted from the tent, ducking around some of the closer trees and sprinting along the side of the castle without another word or even a glance back at the tent, hoping that she hadn't been spotted. Harry would be all right, he was always all right.

Only when she got back into the castle did it suddenly feel like a fog had lifted from her mind, and she shook her head momentarily trying to recover her senses. What had she been doing? She remembered quite clearly making it down to Harry's tent and entering, but after that it felt something like a blur, and suddenly she was running back into the castle because someone or something else was approaching the tent and she didn't want to be seen there.

But still she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was missing quite a lot of what had gone on, but for some pressing reason she couldn't place, she had no desire to go back and figure it out. So she returned to Gryffindor Tower, although the pressing urge to understand what had happened, although faint, never departed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan shook his head at the pathetic girl that he had chosen to lead the Mages here at Hogwarts. She had been so easy to enchant the moment she had entered his tent, preventing her from seeing or feeling anything that would have diminished her perspective of him as great and wonderful and kind, but the apparent arrival of more wizards demanded that she leave as quickly as possible. The spells would fade, leaving only the memories of what she thought she saw and heard in the tent, as well as the pressing need to not return… for his own safety of course.

Once the girl was out of sight, Nobu'tan could focus on the oncoming assailants. More Ministry goons no doubt, led by the grey robed men that had been spying on him since before the First Task. The lows that Dumbledore would sink to were astounding.

"Teg'Ramm, deal with these parasites, do not let them interfere." He ordered, before returning to the project he was in the midst of working on before Granger had arrived.

The deep blood red circle that he had drawn upon the ground was perfect for such a ritual, wherein he had hopes to discover the source of the Goblet of Fire's magic, and with a bit of finesse and strength, shatter it and allow himself to depart without continuing to play the old man's games.

But the ritual was rather in depth and would require much of his attention to even commence, and all these distractions were not conducive to such an environment. Calling upon the powers from beyond as he stepped into the circle, Nobu'tan heard the small amount of chatter outside the tent, likely the Ministry fools making their demands of his servants, but he blocked out their words as he started the orcish chant, calling upon every scrap of Fel knowledge he knew to bend and warp the magic around himself, searching for the anomaly that had to reside therein that allowed the Goblet to take hold with its burning power.

Sifting through the astral vision that he had of the magic surrounding him, Nobu'tan weeded through the connections that he had to the Leylines, the Fel, his minions and many artifacts he had created or gathered over time, seeking for something that did not belong connected to him.

There was something, located deep within himself, but to reach it would potentially allow the Fel to sink its powerful magic just as deeply into him, warping him much like it had many of his servants. It was a cost worth considering the ramifications of. If he took more of the Fel into himself, his abilities in the Arcane would diminish as a result, and he would physically change, growing more demonic in appearance. Not altogether a bad thing, but the further result would allow the Legion to have more direct control over him, as one of them rather than a mortal that used their magic. It was one of the more positive things of being one of the supposed 'lesser' races. They had to give over their will to be controlled, rather than simply being dominated by virtue of what they were.

Would he give up such freedom from a greater and crueler master for the temporary freedom from what Dumbledore had planned? It irritated Nobu'tan to consider it, but yes, he's rather deal with Dumbledore and the old man's plots that be forever bound to the Legion and their vile schemes.

With a grunt of pain he allowed the Fel energy to fade, vaguely aware of the sounds of battle just outside the tent, but he was still busy and would rather focus on more pressing issues that the foolish humans that dared to challenge his ogre magi.

That was the case, until the tent flap was forcefully pulled aside, revealing one of the grey robed men, who was holding some sort of object in his hands and pointing it at Nobu'tan. "You are under arrest, Dark Wizard," the man said, even as a wand joined the object, threateningly pointed directly at the warlock's heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm heard the command of his master, and in seeing the approaching two dozen robed humans, he stood to his full height, stepping to the edge of the runestone's ward around the tent and blocking their path. "None pass; state your business here, humans." Teg declared, while Ramm and the other ogre mage kept their eyes out for any sign of hostility.

"Stand aside Troll, we will speak with Mr. Potter and none else." The leader, an older human clad in grey said, but Teg'Ramm didn't like the shrouding effect that his robe made over the man's body, preventing him from easily seeing what the man was holding beneath the folds of cloth.

"No," Ramm countered even as the heads switched tasks, and Teg subtle started to pool Fel magic around their immense frame, "None may see the boy, you will explain yourselves or go back, unless you want it to devolve to violence…"

"We are not here to explain ourselves to witless beings with little understanding in the ways of magic or power, your brute strength do not impress or frighten us…" the man said, but both Teg'Ramm and the other ogre mage smiled, all four heads glinting with suppressed magical might.

"So, be it then, wizard…" Teg stated, as he released parts of the Fel magic he had gathered, summoning a small contingent of demons between the tent and these wizards, even as he and Ramm grasped their staff in both of their powerful hands, "Violence it is then… Attack!"

The baying of the Felhounds he had summoned rent the sky as the demonic hounds charged, eager to sink their fangs into the flesh of magic beings, and the wizards leapt back, their wands out and casting jets of magic at the demons, even as the pair of ogre magic slowly fell back toward the tent, unwilling to leave their master undefended.

Teg unleashed bolts of shadow magic, peppering the ground nearest the more nimble humans to keep them on their toes, while Ramm worked to maneuver their bulk around the pathetic jets of magic that the wizards returned, maintaining a Fel shield around the just in case.

Their ally, the other ogre mage was conjuring more demons to join the fray even as they grasped their staff in one hand, looking eager to wade into battle like their brutish cousins, but holding himself restrained for the moment, the intelligence afforded by the dual brains overriding the instinctual urge for bloodshed.

Swarms of imps surged forth, crying sharply for blood and fire, but the wizards seemed to be amazingly holding their own, the handful of grey clad wizards seeming to make up the difference that the red warriors lacked previously in their attempts to take Lord Nobu'tan from the school.

Small devises started to fly out of the grey cloaks, exploding with powerful blasts of magic as they struck the ground or various demons, causing catastrophic damage to the affected areas, and opening pockets of space for the wizards to advance toward the tent, drawing closer to the ward line that surrounded them protectively.

Teg'Ramm smirked as they arrived at the line, but it quickly faded as another object, some sort of metal rod, was used to viciously strike the ward, and it shimmered before fading completely.

Roaring with rage and anger, Teg'Ramm unleashed a spell of madness upon himself and the other ogre, tapping into that primal bloodlust that all ogres possessed, and swinging his powerfully enchanted staff like a club, he strode into battle, his powerful hide shrugging off even the most powerful of spells.

Ramm kept up a steady stream of spells to keep those farther away from the melee swings from getting too close, and the united assault of the two magi seemed to be enough to push the wizards back for a moment, but only when he sent a few other flying with a powerful two-handed swing, did Teg look back and see that one of the grey robed figures had slipped around them and was entering Nobu'tan's tent, against orders of him not being disturbed.

Roaring in frustrated disappointment at his failure, Teg'Ramm unleashed a torrent of shadowflame in all directions, staggering back those unfamiliar with the magic, before calling forth a torrent of flaming spheres from the sky, to pelt the ground with a miniature blazing inferno, covering him as he charged at the tent fully intending to reach inside and crush the wizard with his bare hands for interrupting his master in the midst of his rituals.

Teg'Ramm only made it several massive steps, closing a port of the distance to the tent, when there was a massive backlash of magic from within, and the wizard flew backward out of the tent, tearing the flap completely from the rest of the covering. Nobu'tan stood in the doorway, his eyes aflame with rage and burning red from the use of the Fel magic that coursed through his small body.

Teg'Ramm immediately stepped aside in fear as the powerful Lord of the Black Harvest stepped forward toward the fallen wizard, hands glowing green with Felfire, and grasped the front of the wizard's robes, which started to smoke as the cursed Legion fire ate away at the magically imbued cloth.

"I answer to none of your claims," Nobu'tan roared, his voice amplified by the magic coursing through him, and physically threw the wizard back to his fellow, knocking a fair number to the ground as they tried to catch their comrade.

Unfortunately for the two ogres and their master, the appearance of Nobu'tan seemed to only embolden the wizards to new heights of stupidity, and they redoubled their efforts to defeat them, launching a volley of spells directly at the young warlock. Tog'ramm yelled desperately as he imposed himself between the spells and his master, feeling the foul magic strike his hide hard, and the burning pain as his chest was split open in a horrible fashion.

"NO!" Nobu'tan cried, even as Teg'Ramm felt his legs give out, falling heavily to the earth. Blackness quickly obscuring his vision, he saw only a small handfuls of explosions, and knew with a smirk on each head that at the least he would be avenged by his master.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius was stalking the outskirts of the forbidden forest, keeping a close eye on Harr… no, Nobu'tan, for Albus as the Headmaster took care of things within the castle and in regards to the Tournament. Therefore he was in a prime location to watch as the latest group of Ministry buffoons attacked the massive tent where his godson resided on the grounds like a squatter. It did anger him that Lily and James' son couldn't be allowed within the castle, but it was the boy's own choice to not forsake his guards and allow hospitality to protect him.

He had never before now made the attempt to approach, knowing that the boy in that tent remembered nothing concerning him, and to try and profess his care and love for him was hopeless, and neither was the boy willing to work on new memories to try and have any kinship with his birth parents, so obsessed he was with whatever plan he had forged with the Legion. Sirius had all but given up his ability to fulfill his responsibilities as Godfather to the boy, that all he could do was volunteer time and again to watch the tent for any signs of activity.

Sirius was about to lie down in his animagus form and watch the battle, hoping that none of the wizards would be torn limb from limb this time, but at the same time getting a sick sense of pleasure that this sycophants of Fudge would be eliminated from their duty for a good long time due to their blind loyalty, when the battle broke out in earnest. Demons charged from the sides of the tent even as the wizards tore down the protective barrier that encompassed it.

Sirius had watched time and again as the Ministry failed upon that shield that he wasn't surprised that they managed to find a way to tear it down now, but what he wasn't expecting was for his godson to actually appear, physically throwing a wizard from the tent and back to his group of attackers.

Then the unthinkable occurred. As one the wizards shot many dangerous and quite indeed lethal spells at the boy, and Sirius was aghast as the massive, blue, two-headed troll leapt between Lily's boy and the oncoming tide of death, and took the spells himself on the chest, collapsing to the earth in a small quake.

Harry screamed, and that was when Sirius knew that the game was over. The boy was highly protective of his servants, much in the same way that James' had been overly protective of his friends, and the sky opened up with Felfire, sending a barrage down on the location of the Ministry wizards, making them scatter as the boy advanced.

In the wake of gore and screams that followed as the small boy went on a rampage over the grounds of Hogwarts, Sirius' gaze was pulled back to the massive troll, lying still on the ground in front of the tent. Was it his imagination, or did the creature stir slightly. Drawn by his own curiosity more than anything else, Sirius padded his way over swiftly, hoping to get to the spot and leave long before Nobu'tan returned.

The flesh covering the creatures massive bare chest was torn and ragged, resembling vaguely a sunburst pattern where the flesh had been flayed open by the spells meant for its master, but even as Sirius approached it still rose and fell slightly, as the creature was clearly breathing its final breaths.

Transforming back and drawing his wand, Sirius wondered if it would be a mercy to put the beast out of its misery. What he didn't expect was for the hulking thing to open its eyes, all three between both heads, and look at him in a mixture of pain and sorrow. Sirius froze, reading all the emotions that poured out of the creature that ought to have none. Grief, loss, anguish all were present, as well as a protective fury that Sirius alone could emphasis with regarding the boy that was out seeking vengeance even now, rather than staying by the side of a loyal protector.

Sirius knew what he had to do, to make sure that his godson was as safe as possible. He had learned healing magic long before, and could easily cauterize these wounds, preventing the creature from dying, although it would be extremely weak for a long time yet.

"Shh," he said, placing a hand on one of the creature's heads, trying to soothe it from struggling, "because you protect my godson, I will save you, but I command you as one who loves that boy, you will forever owe your life to him, far more than any promises that he has given to you, do you understand me?"

The creature turned both heads slightly, looking directly into Sirius' eyes with all the solemnity that it could muster in its state of pain, and nodded both heads. That was all that Sirius needed. from what he had learned, Nobu'tan and his followers were powerfully tied to the oaths that they made, and would never break one, although they may look for every loophole possible to weave around it, but he had never heard of a single one that he had broken to anyone he respected, and he hoped to whatever beings of light and goodness existed that he was respected by this creature as Sirius wove his healing magic, directing it carefully at the rends and tears of the flesh.

There was only minor internal damage, from a wizarding perspecive, and Sirius quickly treated that first, as it was the most lethal of anything the creature had suffered. Pierced lungs and broken bones mostly, but easily repaired with the right spell and careful consideration of the different body type.

The flesh would scar, with how deep the wounds were, but Sirius knew that if this creature thought anything like he did, it would be a badge of honor to him and his kind, that he was willing to sacrifice himself for another, for his leader and master. When he had finished, the troll started to try and sit up, but Sirius place a hand on its shoulder, knowing that if it resisted he had no means of actually preventing it from rising, "No, you need to lie still, you will be very weak for many days after a wound like that."

"But… my Lord…" the creature said, its voice hitching from the pain. Sirius had had no time to administer any sort of painkiller, either potion or charm, but the creature hadn't made a noise or movement when he started.

"He will be fine for a bit, but I must go before he returns. Remember your oath to me, and heal well to protect him forever." Sirius charged the creature, even as he heard the other ogre returning alongside Nobu'tan, and he swiftly transformed and departed back into the trees.

There he watched as the boy returned, presumable to mourn over his dead servant, only to pause when the creature he had healed stirred, and bellowed orders at its fellow to bring the fallen one into the tent, before gesturing at a massive stone near the entrance, which restored the ward that kept out all hostiles to him from approaching the tent.

Sirius wasn't sure what the ramifications of what he had done were, but in his heart he knew he had done all he could, albeit indirectly, to protect his godson from whatever the boy was going to get himself into.

"I love you, Harry," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes, Lord Nobu'tan, he will be taken care of as best as we are able," Lucius assured the young warlock for about the tenth time in their conversation through an overlarge portal, after the young man had opened it and sent through his loyal ogre magi servant, which had been direly injured in the protection of their mutual lord.

Lucius was personally very grateful to the massive blue creature, knowing that it had very well saved the warlock's life, and their one surefire chance to escape the enslavement that the Dark Lord's return had all but promised. He would be true to his word, and the two-headed magi would receive the very best of their healing materials, and be given every comfort needed to return it to full strength as speedily as possible.

"I want weekly reports of his condition," Nobu'tan demanded, sounding still very much enraged that such a thing had happened to one of his followers, a concept that had not gone unnoticed by the pureblood noble. Lucius wondered if the boy would feel the same bout of righteous indignation if it was he, or Draco, that had been gravely wounded, and not the creature that the boy himself had all but raised in the magical arts.

"We will do so, and for your continued protection, I am sending through the other ogre magi, to make sure that such an event does not happen again," Lucius replied, signaling for the other two hulking brutes to move through the portal and join their remaining fellow on Nobu'tan's side, inside the Hogwarts grounds.

Clearly the only reason that this fourth one, their leader named Teg'Ramm, was injured was due to a surprise mass attack aimed directly at Nobu'tan, as there typically was little that wizard magic could do against the hardened and quite powerful hide of these creatures, aside from powerful Dark Arts that the Aurors would not normally be using. They must have considered the boy quite the threat for such wanton attempts at murder.

"Also, Lucius," Nobu'tan added, growing more direct with his speech and leaning forward until his face almost crossed the dimensional boundary separating Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts. "I am putting you in charge of seeing to the taking and defense of the location we discussed previously, all my forces are known to you, and I want them evenly distributed to make absolutely certain that when our objects are gathered together that none can stop us in time before the ritual is completed."

"I understand my Lord, and will see to it by the end of the Tournament." Lucius complied, knowing the gravity of what he had just been assigned. It only made sense, with all the other major players of the Council of the Black Harvest trapped at Hogwarts, indeed most of their members, due to age or other circumstances. Lucius alone had the clout to order around the creatures that Nobu'tan had gathered in preparing the area surrounding Stonehenge, and making sure that it was well fortified from potential attack while they opened the portal for the Legion.

"I trust that this means you will be seeking the last object in earnest then?" Lucius added, hinting at the Elder Wand while keeping to the code that Nobu'tan had already used, clearly growing paranoid that he might be being observed at all times, even within the privacy of his warded tent.

"I will have it soon enough, so just make sure that the location is prepared, as I will travel straight there once this farce of a competition is completed." He declared strictly, frowning at the insinuation that he might not be able to fulfill his part of the necessary arrangement.

"Understood, we will be prepared for your arrival by that time," Lucius said, stepping away as Nobu'tan prepared silently to close the portal. "Until then, or if you have some update to fill me on, good evening Lucius…" Nobu'tan stated, and the tear in space sealed itself.

Lucius exhaled slowly, knowing that there was now an incomprehensible amount of things to do, and little less than a year to accomplish it all. Foremost, drafts of their inevitable plans would be needed; as there was no way that he would plot out a suitable defense for that open location on the fly.

Tearing through what maps of the area that were in the family's possession, Lucius magically copied a quite detailed geographical of the surrounding area of the ancient druidic stones, noting the lack of real defensible features, and possible locations for them to plant shrunken walls or towers, all of which Nobu'tan had supplied before and had been used limitedly during their breach of Avalon.

Decidedly simply really, with all the wide open spaces to plan out a reasonable defense, but the problem was that they all operated with a two dimensional attack plan. The moment that the wizards attempted to attack via air, all their plans were ruined. That was unless there was some sort of air-born demon that Nobu'tan had yet to notify them of its existence.

Still, Lucius had to make do with what he had, and setting aside a large contingent for anti-air attacks if needed, he would plan out their defenses to the letter, and make it so that once they arrived on the plains around Stonehenge; they would be erected within moments.

He had most of the year for them to prepare, which would include the ability to learn if he was to expect air defenses to come from beyond the Great Dark or not, and adjust his plan accordingly. However, even for what they had, it would take a great deal from the Ministry and Dumbledore's order to break their lines once they had set up everything, and would they be able to pierce through to where Nobu'tan would be opening the portal by then? Only time would be able to tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was pleased with his finalized version of the Arcane suppressor spell. It should work in preventing at least Hermione's mages from causing unwanted damages when fighting broke out between them and Draco's warlocks. Only a subtle tweak was further needed to allow it to capture and negate Fel magic as well, and that was a simple charge of the magic, able to be placed anywhere like a trap, and prepared.

Alastor and Sirius had both already reported in that the Ministry attack was a horrendous failure, although one of Nobu'tan large guards had been severely injured. Sirius admitted to healing the creature of most of its injuries, in exchange for a vow to protect his godson forever, which Albus understood immediately the man's reasoning behind his action, even if it still granted their enemy a now utterly loyal tool at his disposal. Still, the hulking creature was out of commission for the time, and of the four towering blue troll-like abominations, it had been the most senior, and most powerful.

Granted, the boy had simply summoned all three of the others to serve in its place, while shuttling the injured one off to places unknown, likely Malfoy Manor for all that Albus suspected. Truly, he felt that Lucius' claws were involved somewhere in this madness from the beginning, and how to find out was beyond his skill to pry at the moment, with all that was going on at Hogwarts and the Ministry breathing down everyone's necks.

The only thing that prevented Albus from setting his arcane traps even now was that words had reached him via owl that the Divination Professor, Madam Trelawney, wished to speak with him, which was a rarity in and of itself, as the woman rarely sent word out, let alone left in person, her tower.

Climbing the last of the stairs up to the North Tower and ascending the rope ladder that was a symbolic feature that she had added herself, unwilling to lower the last set of stairs that quite well existed for the tower attic that she taught and dwelled in.

Something about a heightening of thinking or something, but Albus hadn't paid enough attention to Divination during his schooling to truly see the difference it made.

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore, you answered my summons," Sybill said airily from behind her small table where a crystal ball rested.

"Naturally," Albus replied, "I highly value my staff, if you have a concern or simply wish to chat; I am more than willing to set time aside to hear you."

"I have detected something moving in the shadows of the future," Sybill said seriously, without a single trace of her usual mysterious air that she attempts to convince others of her abilities with, which made Albus paused as he crossed the room toward her. "I believe I have had a vision of late, and left myself a message regarding it. Who knew that I am indeed as gifted as my ancestors, albeit in such a deep trance that I myself cannot behold what I see and interpret it?"

Albus seated himself across from her, subtly using the Arcane to brush away some of the intoxicating incense and smiled pleasantly, "and what was it that you told yourself?" he asked.

In answer, Sybill used some of her magic to illuminate the ball between them, and an image of herself appeared chanting in the rough hoarse voice that Albus recognized marked a true prophecy from the woman, " _Darkness and Flame descends upon the world, as midnight comes upon the eve of the sixth month. Terrors of sky and earth and stars beyond shall rise, and great shall be their heinous cries. Yet singing the Light shall come to claim her own and save them from flame. And in time he who brings great Darkness shall return to rescue those of the Light, and defeat the fiery villains for all time._ "

"From what I can tell, Professor," Sybill said as the vision closed from the ball, "there are dark times ahead of us, and a great enemy shall arise, more deadly and powerful than even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and any caught in the middle of this battle between the forces of Light and this engulfing shadow will be lost. I have never asked much of you Headmaster, but I must know if you are prepared to stand once more as the leader of the Light on this world, and protect those who will flock to you for aid?"

Albus had to think soundly for a moment, as he understood much more than what was expressed in the prophecy alone. the Legion had indeed set their sights on his world, and only those who understood the depths of the Arcane had any chance of fighting against them. Their wands and the magic they expressed from them, while a powerful tool once long ago, would be all but useless against this enemy, to whom magic was a source of food.

"I will," he said at last, accepting far more than the simple role that Sybill had insinuated. The great work he had prevented thus far needed to begin. The wizarding world needed to change. And to even hope to begin, they needed to know the power of the Arcane.


	48. C47: Beautiful Passion

**And here we are once again, another two weeks, another chapter for Stormreaver. Having done the math, the Hogwarts arc will end the 15th of May (on chapter 51), due to the every other week nature of posting. While I know that seems a long time for those who are avidly awaiting the return to Azeroth, trust me, there are some exiting things planned before then, at least in my humble opinion, or perhaps not so humble... the time will fly as needed, so just enjoy the ride as we go, and mark the calendar for that wonderful day when we enter the next arc of the story.**

 **For those who are worried about whether I will suddenly stop positing like many other Warcraft-based stories, I will reveal that in terms of completed chapters waiting to post, I am up to chapter 66, so no, we have plenty of material to continue positing consistently for months to come, indeed the rest of 2018 at the rate of posting... and in thinking about that just wow, I have a year's worth of material ready for this story. I fully anticipated that this will be a very long project, stretching for quite a long time as I cover the plots that I wished to, until we reach the end I had foresaw for Nobu'tan and the others, so look forward to reading about this story for a great amount of time to come, barring tragedy or some other unforeseeable event.**

 **Chapter Forty Seven**

 **Beautiful Passion**

After the immediate threat of Teg'Ramm dying had passed, he had all but force Lucius to allow him to return to Nobu'tan's side, which the warlock leader had felt extremely foolish, but Nobu'tan was touched by the show of intense loyalty from one whom he considered a very close friend and confidant.

For two weeks the ogre lay in the tent, continuing to recover from the near fatal attack that the Ministry wizards had inflicted upon him trying to get at the young warlock, and still he raged and fumed every time he thought about it. He had already worked himself nearly into the same dire state just trying to viciously escape from the grounds and go straight to the Ministry to attack in person, but to no avail, the magic of the Goblet prevented him from so much as thinking of leaving the school grounds while the Tournament was in progress for such a length of time without a fresh burst of pain. It probably didn't help that Nobu'tan had little intentions of returning if such an event were to occur.

At least the fools in charge of the wizarding government had finally gotten through their tiny minds that they weren't going to take him by force, and had stopped trying to send people after the fifth attack or so, proceeding after the one in which Teg'Ramm was injured. Nobu'tan had met each one head on, utilizing bursts of Fel magic mixed with his own rage, and torn them to pieces every time. Currently he was supporting a sprained arm from one such attack, but it was already recovering due to the heavy flux of demonic energy that flowed through him on a daily basis. The one positive thing that came with touching the powers of the Arcane, or the Fel, was the massive regeneration bonus to injuries, which alone made it worth the cost in Nobu'tan's mind.

Still, as Nobu'tan paced the inside of his tent, staying well away from the still recovering ogre magi, his eyes kept drifting back to the thrice damned golden egg that represented his entanglement with this ever increasing irritant of a Tournament.

He had opened it, only once, and the screeching that had followed was more than enough for him to slam it shut again and never consider anything regarding it for a great deal of time. But now, knowing that the very lives of his servants were on the line, if these vile wizards were so keen on preventing his escape, he would have to try his hardest to actually finish these tasks as quickly as possible, so as to minimize his personal exposure to the dangerous elements that they represented.

Still, their backing off gave him a small window to breathe, but Nobu'tan felt more than assured that they were just waiting for the right time to strike again, likely after the Tournament was officially over, and they could physically removed him from the grounds without killing him, not that that had stopped them before. Nobu'tan had the feeling that, for once, Dumbledore had been on his side; however limited, in persuading the fools that they couldn't take him alive so long as the Tournament was underway, small mercy to them that it was.

Although, he didn't want to open the screaming egg once more inside the tent, as it would disturb his closest servant and practically child, so Nobu'tan summoned one of the other ogre magi, whose names he had still yet to actually learn, and took the egg out across the grounds, well away from his tent and the protections it afforded. It was a small risk, but if it gave him any advantage to prepare for this ludicrous task, so be it.

Sitting on a large stone by the lake where the ship, which he learned belonged to Durmstrang, Nobu'tan took a deep breath and opened the egg. The piercing wail began immediate once more, ringing out across the rather lonely grounds, echoing everywhere and infuriating the warlock. What was there to learn from such a ridicules sound? Throwing the egg down in a heap, he snapped at the ogre, and it kicked the golden near-sphere as hard as it could, sending the still screaming object far out into the water, where it landed with a mighty splash.

Nobu'tan was so irritated he almost didn't hear the subtle change as soon as the egg's interior made contact with the water, but he managed to notice the screaming stop and change to something melodic as soon as it submerged.

He swore however, as now the egg that was his clue was sinking to the bottom of the lake, with whatever magical creatures might have been living there. As soon as he figured out how to hear it, he had lost it.

"Shall we retrieve it, master?" the ogre asked, seeing the frustration on the warlock's face.

Knowing that the ogre magi would go through on his invitation, despite swimming like a rock, Nobu'tan shook his head. "I'll go after it myself," he said reassuringly, "stand watch here, and make sure I return. If I'm not back within an hour, send demons after me. Voidwalkers can swim the best out of our cadre of choices, and they lack the need to breathe."

"Yes Master," the ogre's other head replied. Nobu'tan didn't bother removing any of his clothing, as there was a powerful skill that he had learned through the fel that would allow him to stay indefinitely underwater if need be.

Wading in up to his shoulders, Nobu'tan wove the Fel magic, drawing the oxygen in the air into his lungs, and forcefully replenishing it with the demonic magic. If there was a price for this skill, he was not yet aware of it, although he presumed that like most demonic magic there was some sort of payment that would be due. Still, he walked on, soon swimming through the gloomy water, able to hold his breath in his lungs as long as he needed to and search for the infuriating egg.

Over beds of kelp and along ridges of sharp rocks he swam, keen to stay away from anywhere that creatures could easily be hiding, waiting to strike at the unaware. It wasn't that he was afraid, but more an unwillingness to expend more energy than he needed over the useless bauble.

Nobu'tan could see the shadow of the Durmstrang ship in the distance, and knew that from its position the egg had landed somewhere far to the right of it, and closer to the bank. Heading in that direction, he started to hear faint singing, and followed it like a beacon.

Encompassed by the Fel as he was, what creatures he did see were quick to swim in the opposite direction, almost overtaken by fright at his presence. But Nobu'tan knew that anything larger than a standard fish wouldn't be so easily frightened, and so he kept himself on guard, just in case he encountered something that was willing to try and drive him away.

Coming up over a small rise, Nobu'tan looked down to where the singing was heard, and spotted the small glint of gold, heavily shrouded by the lack of light this deep in the murky lake. Unfortunately it wasn't alone. Naturally that song had drawn other creatures to the egg, and Nobu'tan almost wanted to hurt himself when he spotted the aquatic humanoids that were only known as Merfolk to the wizards.

Carrying coral weaponry and trinkets, they swam in slow circles around the egg, as though enchanted by the melody. Nobu'tan was cautious, and only after studying how many where were, and their sleek movements through the water, judging how powerful each would be if he had to fight them, he slowly approached, hands empty to show himself as nonthreatening as possible.

He knew that he was at a massive disadvantage in the water rather than out of it, as while Felfire would burn easily here, the incantations would be harder to speak correctly when he was more or less unable to hear them, so he wished to avoid confrontation if possible.

The Merpeople saw him coming from a long way off, but rather than scatter or even charge, they moved off to one side, watching neutrally as Nobu'tan approached his egg. If anything, they seemed to have knowing smirks and smiles upon seeing him, and Nobu'tan greatly suspected that they had something to do with the task, only confirmed when he bothered to actually pay attention to the song that the egg was playing on a continued loop.

' _Come seek us where our voices sound… We cannot sing above the ground… And while you're searching ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss… An hour long you'll have to look… and to recover what we took… But past an hour, the prospect's black… Too late, it's gone, it won't come back…_ '

Nobu'tan didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the entirety of this new madness. Firstly, how could the old man dare to think he'd be capable of taking anything of importance to him, let alone that he'd allow such an injustice to transpire, unless…

And once he had his reason, Nobu'tan departed, leaving the egg behind, as it was no longer unneeded, and swam straight for the surface, allowing Fel flames to accent his flight upward. If he was right, then his followers were under threat of becoming part of this game, and he would do all in his power to not allow that. As much as he didn't like it, he needed their alliances, and if they thought he couldn't protect them, then his influence would slip over them.

Rocketing out of the water, Nobu'tan tried something absolutely crazy. Igniting Felfire from both his hands and his booted feet, he launched himself into the air, propelled solely by his rage and the power of the demonic fire. The ogre magi on the bank looked on in awe as Nobu'tan got adjusted to the strange sensation, and then directed himself like an arrow toward the front of the castle. He had an old man to kill, if needs be, and a sickening game to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus was working at his desk when Fawkes gave out a worried cry, starling him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see the phoenix at the window. Beyond that he could see a streak of flame in the direction of the lake, coming directly at the castle. The warning wards alerted him at that point of Fel magic at work, and Albus knew that there could only be one so proficient. "So it begins…"

Standing and rushing like the bats of Hades were behind him, rather than coming directly at his gates, Albus took several passages only know to him, and possible the Weasley twins, and managed to arrive at the front doors to Hogwarts moments before the fiery projectile landed with a crash at the front steps.

Seeing instantly that it was Nobu'tan himself, Albus instantly went on the defensive, one hand drawing the arcane to him while the other grasped the Elder Wand in his robes, although he was reluctant to draw it.

"You… dare…" the warlock seethed, rising to his full height, and Albus' eyes widened when he saw the Fel green magic leaking from the warlock's hands and eyes. The boy was already completely soaked with the tainted magic, and ready for battle. Shimmering arcane shields snapped into place even as the torrent of life devouring magic was unleashed, and Albus knew that this could very well be the battle that they had all been waiting for with horrid dread.

"My followers!" Nobu'tan roared, swinging back and force as he hurled balls of Felflame at the Headmaster of the school, and Albus knew that this would quickly draw the attention of others throughout the castle, so he either needed to push Nobu'tan out into the grounds, or halt the confrontation if he could.

But the fury before him was too powerful for his skill in the Arcane alone, despite what acceleration in knowledge he had attained, and quickly the Fel was overpowering his shield, and burning his arms and hands.

He made the decision, and drew the Elder Wand. Lightning crackled at the tip as the Rod of Destiny sang for battle, and with a heavy sigh Albus granted it the permission to go about its best skill. Curses and hexes flew from the tip, shields enveloped him, and the chant of many dead wielders of the cursed wand rang throughout his mind.

Whatever fury and anger that Nobu'tan possessed, it would do little against the rightful master of the Death Stick, and as much as Albus wanted to preserve the life of the son of his dear friends, he had to weigh the lives of many others before it.

Nobu'tan was blasted back, his own Fel shields taking the brunt of the initial assault, and landed heavily on the grounds of the castle. Albus could already sense, his awareness magnified by the power of the wand, that the boy's allies were all surging to their master's rescue, within and without the castle, and he could not allow this to occur. A wave of the wand and the gates of Hogwarts slammed shut, force of magic alone holding them barred, while a massive trench of earth started to rise around them, forming a walled arena if they were to have their final duel here and now.

"Nobu'tan, is there truly the need for such violence…?" Albus said calmly, hoping beyond hope that the boy wasn't yet beyond reason. "I suspect that you've deduced what the second task entails, and are righteously angry that we would purposely put anyone in harm's way… Am I right?"

The answer was another wave of Felfire, partially absorbed by the powerful shields of the Elder Wand, and the rest rebuffed so that the warlock himself was burned in several places by his own spells. "The wording was not of my choice, and no one will be placed in true danger, it is merely a contest to see who can riddle out what means most to them, and if they can prepare adequately in the two months allotted to them…" Albus continued, praying to the powers that be that he could sooth the warlock's temper, so much like Lily's in the defense of others, yet so unlike her in its vengeful nature.

It seemed that that would not be the case, however, as Nobu'tan was not deterred from his aggression, and continuing to try and speak rationally to him seemed to only exacerbate the situation. Albus sighed, even as he sidestepped another blast of flames, and settled on the stratagem that he ought to have opened up with. Quickly weaving the power of the Arcane together with the might of the Elder Wand, Albus hurriedly bound the wards to lock Nobu'tan's connection of the strength and rage of the Legion.

And not a moment too soon, as Nobu'tan's next spell seemed to have been something potentially massive, but due to Albus' lock it came as more of a waft of sparks rather than the torrent of fire that it once was. Nobu'tan was taken aback by the surprising difficulty that his magic suddenly experienced.

"Wha… what have you done?!" he gaped, trying to attack several more times, but his spells growing substantially weaker as what limited energy he could tap into dwindled.

Albus stood back a few steps, fully aware of the potential that the boy would grow even more violent, "I've stripped you of your Fel magic, you cannot access it ever again," Albus said, cringing inwardly at the lie, but hoping that the sharp shock would reawaken the kindness that he just knew that was sleeping deep within the boy.

"Do you realize what you've done?!" Nobu'tan screamed, charging Albus physically. Albus only had time to stow away the Elder Wand, and therefore was unable to fully brace himself from the bodily contact, although he merely staggered back and didn't fall as the boy swung and kicked, and even tried to bite the far older wizard.

"I will not fight you this way," Albus said, struggling to maintain control of the boy as he flailed at him, all thoughts of dignity or magic forgotten, "I will not let the Legion win this world, or your soul, I owe your biological parents too much for that."

Albus hissed at that point when Nobu'tan's teeth found purchase on his flesh and a reflexive blast of arcane magic sent the boy hurtling backward. Looking at the bleeding wound, Albus wondered what sort of guardian would tolerate; even encourage such methods of fighting. "Surely there is something we can do?" he asked aloud, more to himself.

"You think that this allows you to win so easily, old man?" Nobu'tan said, rising to his feet once again, decorum and dignity returning after his brief bout of madness. "The Legion will find a way, you've only guaranteed your death alongside your precious world. I will kill you in the end…"

"IS THAT TRULY WHAT YOU WANT?!" Albus bellowed, extreme patience finally wearing thin once again, and the magic at his command made the ground quake momentarily in his exhaustion from the duel. "To kill me?! I could have sworn your goal only ever was returning to this world that you claim as home. Why can we not help you?! Let us aid you in returning there peacefully, why must our world suffer in exchange?!"

"You could never understand," Nobu'tan said, turning to look away from Albus, "There is no other way, not now at least."

"Then I suppose, until you see differently, we remain as always, on the opposite side of this fight…" Albus summarized. The urge to end this budding war now was present, but he could not, would not, bring himself to kill such a young man. Better his magic bound and kept confined at the school for the time being. Without the magic of the Fel, he had no means of sending for his followers at the least.

Lowering the walls that surrounded them, Albus turned away, "I will not give up on you just yet, Nobu'tan. There may yet be some good left in you, some small bit that the Legion and their minions have not yet seared away."

And with that he left him there on the grounds. Alastor and Severus were both waiting for him just inside the magically barred doors, looking inquisitively at the soot and bloodstains on Albus' robes, but the Headmaster just shook his head silently, limping slightly as he returned to his office. Poppy might want to have him checked out, but there was no need for such a fuss over him, as Fawkes would see to anything that was actually life threatening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm waited in the darkness of his Master's tent, his breathing growing stronger by the day. Both minds, through their limited magical connect had had much to ponder about, such as the human man who ought to have been their enemy healing him in the most dire moment, preventing what the ogre mage had presumed to be his death.

But an oath of eternal loyalty to Nobu'tan in exchange for his life, it was not something that he had expected such a one to demand as payment. Naturally, due to the honor that was showed him from one who was his enemy, Teg'Ramm was duty bound to keep the oath, and would stand by Nobu'tan to the end of his days, as a protector and even friend if such a thing were possible.

Before, the ogre mage would not have considered that his Master had cared so much for him, but the frantic look in his eyes when he had driven away their foes and returned to him had said all that needed to be said. Nobu'tan may call them minions and tools, but in his heart, still very human despite his training, they were much more to the young human boy. And it was that loyalty that had sealed Teg'Ramm's pledge to keep the young warlock safe.

Therefore, when his master entered the tent and Teg'Ramm could barely feel his presence in Fel magic, he grew considerably worried. That the boy looked infuriated beyond measure in addition caused him to once more attempt the simple act of sitting up, carefully shifting his bulk to accommodate the massive chest wound that was already starting to scar.

"No, you lay there like you need to," Nobu'tan barked, and Teg'Ramm ignored him, needing to have a clear line of sight to see what was going on. The young master was pacing dangerously, lashing out at stray objects that were in his way.

"What happened?" Teg demanded to know, and Ramm watched carefully as the young warlock stuttered in his pacing and froze.

"It's nothing that can't be reversed… it has to be." the young human said unconvincingly, and the ogre mage reached out through the magic of the Fel, trying to connect with his master and ascertain the truth, but found his way blocked, like trying to walk through an exceedingly narrow passage.

"Tell us the truth…" Ramm added.

Nobu'tan sighed wearily, looking back at them both, "You can be quite insufferable when you're like this, you know that? Fine…" he took a deep breath, "I discovered that Dumbledore plans to use some of my minions within the castle as part of the next task, and confronted him…"

The ogre mage hissed as his chest stung unexpectedly, as he had attempted to flinch back at the thought of his master fighting with the Archmage and powerful wizard so early, "You know we're not ready to face him yet, why did you do something so foolish?" Teg questioned, and the warlock's eyes flashed dangerously, tiny pinpricks of red within the emerald green.

"He restricted your ability in the Fel…" Ramm concluded, understanding much more than the boy was letting on.

"Or at least he has tried to…" Nobu'tan responded, allowing small sparks of green fire flare in his hand. "I believe the spell was meant to sever the connection completely, but I am too strong for it to work, and therefore it has a weakness that I can exploit."

"And this?" Teg continued, gesturing to the dirty and bloodied robes that the boy was wearing.

"I had little choice, he took away my main weapon, and I had to distract him from trying to take the Arcane from me as well… I may also have been a tad furious and lost sense of myself…" Nobu'tan admitted, looking for all his power like the small human child he was.

"So what do we do to rectify it?" Ramm questioned.

"I have been planning such a thing even now, and I already have a few ideas, but the issue is that I am more than sure that Dumbledore used the Elder Wand to cast it, hence why it had such an effect on one as powerful as myself. There are some rituals that I can perform, but I would require more warlocks and some important tools that are currently locked away at Malfoy Manor…"

"And you can't open Fel Portals with the limitation?" Teg surmised.

"Yes…" Nobu'tan admitted, "but there is the fact that I still have full access to the Arcane, in the hopes such as this that the old man would forget that I too am a powerful mage. The Arcane has access to making portals after a different fashion, but the problem is that they are one way only."

Teg and Ramm both understood the problems immediately. If the portal was only one way, and Nobu'tan couldn't leave the grounds due to the magic of the Goblet of Fire, then he could only send things away from Hogwarts, not back.

"Then you portal someone there to inform them of what we need, and we use the ritual of summoning to bring them all back at once…" Teg suggested, "There are five beings here that can use the Fel, which is more than enough for that particular ritual."

Nobu'tan paused, suddenly smirking at the thought. "Yes, it would be an effective workaround to gather what I need, and more guards for when the Ministry attempts to intervene, as they are sure to quickly learn of the fight between me and their esteemed Headmaster."

"We agree," Ramm said, with a look at Teg, "pulling more warriors here, that the wizards are at least aware of would be wisest. Perhaps the Fel centaurs, as this Headmaster is already aware that they exist, just not what their full powers are…"

"Perfect suggestion, my apprentice," Nobu'tan praised, and Teg'Ramm felt a sort of lightness in his body at the words of his master. The warlock had yet to actually name someone as his apprentice, officially, as he was governing teaching over all of the warlocks, so for that blessed title to fall upon him was the highest of honors.

"I will send one of the ogre magi there now, so that we may begin gathering materials." Nobu'tan said, but there were sounds of shifting outside, and a small eye of Kil'rogg flew through the tent, the signal that someone was coming. "Why can't these blasted wizards leave me be…" Nobu'tan said angrily, before striding to the tent entrance and waiting for whomever it was to arrive.

The diminutive wizard was something that Teg'Ramm had never seen before, some mix of human and some stunted creature with sharp features, but the way that his master relaxed informed him that the man was no threat to them as of now.

"Professor Flitwick, what may I do for you?" Nobu'tan asked congenially, although the annoyance at the interruption was still quite noted.

"Oh no, I am perfectly well my boy," the small teacher replied, "I have been sent, as your… ahem, former Head of House, to inform you of the Yule Ball that will be commencing in the month of December, as part of the Tournament, and that the Champions of the Tournament are required to attend… with dates…"

"Dates?" the warlock responded questioningly, and Teg'Ramm shifted slowly to see his master's face better. The wizard noticed him for the first time, and looked momentarily shocked to see the massive ogre so close, but relaxed after a moment, "Oh, you're the one that was gravely injured trying to protect Mr. Potter… well, there are many of us at the castle that praise you for your heroism my good… um… troll? I am not sure what your race call themselves…"

"We are ogres," Teg'Ramm replied, "and those of us that serve the master are the elite ogre magi, and it was an honor to protect my lord…"

"I see," Professor Flitwick replied, before returning his attention to Nobu'tan, "Yes Mr. Potter, a date. You must escort another person to this Ball, as it is in the foremost, a dance. Dress robes are mandatory, but given your current circumstances, I would wear whatever you have that is best for a fancy affair, and call it good enough."

"I'll consider it…" Nobu'tan replied, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in quite a while that Teg'Ramm had witnessed, and ushered the small Professor from the tent. "Thank you for the update, and for your time Professor."

"No trouble at all…" the man was saying as they left Teg'Ramm's line of sight, and gradually grew faint as they departed. Nobu'tan soon returned however, having only seen the wizard to the edge of the ward line, "Naturally, just one more thing to complicate this frustrating state of affairs. I'll have to send word to Lucius to prepare something for me to wear on that day as well, and see to finding someone appropriate to escort, who can also substitute as a protector while I am in a weakened state. Needless to say we will not be getting to the ritual until after this Ball I suppose, factoring in time to research exactly how much power to use and so forth…"

They stayed talking about their plans for some time that day, and Teg'Ramm enjoyed having the time to actually be there, in a position far different than just one other of the warlock's minions, more of a confidant and advisor for once, that a small part of the ogre mage hoped that it would never end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was quite surprised at several of the specific commands that came with the most recent batch of news from Lord Nobu'tan at Hogwarts. not only was he requesting more of his allies to come through a summoning portal to shore up defenses now that his leading ogre mage was injured, but there were quite a number of implements and magical reagents that he requested, as well as a very specified custom set of dress robes, in a style quite unheard of to the Pureblood lord.

Nevertheless, not only were the designs intriguing enough that Lucius ordered a second set of them for himself, albeit slightly different from their personal tailors, but he obeyed the requests with all haste, having everything put together well before the two week deadline for the ritual to commence. Why the boy hadn't just opened another of his Fel gateways Lucius was not aware, but figured it had something to do with Dumbledore and his constant wariness over the usage of Fel magic at his school.

Edgran, leader of the Fel-touched centaur, which were formerly of the forbidden forest outside Hogwarts, was eager for his tribe to be of service to the warlock, and had gathered many of his warriors and mystics, who were slowly learning the arts of Fel magic without assistance from any of the warlocks, an act that Lucius felt that Nobu'tan would find extremely amusing and personally seek to tutor them to even more potential.

Adding to that that they all were familiar with the energies around Hogwarts and the territory, it was a suitable match to sent them to aid his Lord, and Lucius gladly loaded each of the massive centaur warriors with everything they would take and more in way of provisions.

It was surprising, but after embracing the gifts of the Fel, the horse-men were far more willing to engage with humans, on both peaceful and warlike fronts. Lucius rarely had to activate muggle repelling defenses when those that lived out around his estate's edges got too close to the woods that he owned anymore, as the rumors of dark spirits and people vanishing into the trees were doing an excellent job in dissuading the lesser humans from coming near.

On the appointed day, everything was gathered together at the location that Nobu'tan had specified would be the spot their portal opened, and Lucius gladly waited to see this ritual actually performed. Naturally he knew the rites and incantations for such a summoning portal, but they had had no need to ever use it with Nobu'tan's ability to make gateways between locations so easily, so it would be interesting to know what it felt like, for future reference.

At the appointed time, Lucius paused in speaking to Edgran, and together the pair turned as there was a distinct shift in the air, a touch of Fel magic that made Lucius recall the freshness of the Dark Magic when he first connected to it. The rift opened, like a looming shadow that tore open space and time, and energizing those blessed to know its magic.

"The time for our departure is now, Lucius," Edgran said, the regality of his forebears still rather engrained into him from his times learning as a young warrior of his tribe, "until the next time our paths cross."

"Yes, until the next time," Lucius replied as the centaur turned his massive and mutated body toward the portal, and strode purposefully through it, followed one by one by the rest of his tribe's warriors that had been summoned for this excursion. Lucius actually felt a tad of remorse that he would not be able to converse with the quite intelligent being for a time. They had had such interesting talks, comparing cultures and other ideals in a purely intellectual manner that he rarely had experienced even with fellow wizards.

Needless to say, Lucius no longer viewed the creatures as less than human, and respected their concepts as well founded and practiced traditions, much like those of the Purebloods that he fought so hard to preserve with the advent of so many Muggleborn witches and wizards, who always came flocking into their society with thoughts of revolution and change, destroying what they personally disagreed with and ' _enlightening_ ' their society with the muggle perspective.

Not to even begin to mention that now his job in planning the securing of Stonehenge was now just that much more difficult, as the Centaur had played integral roles in securing the site and maintaining their control of it, and it was now possible that their numbers would be reduced in any potential attack that Nobu'tan was possible to encounter at the school and fortress of their primary hinderance.

Alas, there was naught that he could do regarding the choices of his new Lord, and Nobu'tan's protection was paramount anyway, so that was the best choice for them to send Edgran and his people.

Watching the last of the Fel centaur disappear off to the school via the ritual, he wondered if it would break propriety to attend the Yule Ball with Narcissa, and just see how Nobu'tan was getting along at this present moment. As one of the school governors, he was entitled still to attend any function or festivity that the school held, for inspection purposes, but it was also the perfect excuse to now have to think of something special for his wife at Yule, as she wanted more than anything to see her son, and with the Tournament none of the warlocks had elected to leave the school while Nobu'tan was prisoner there.

Yes, a perfect opportunity. Let Dumbledore think he was involved, the old man probable already knew for a surety that Lucius was assisting the warlock is some fashion, but without solid proof what was he to do regarding it?

Lucius almost laughed aloud to himself as he turned to go back inside his manor, and draft some letters announcing his and his wife's attendance to the Ball.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione, among all other girls at Hogwarts, were ecstatic that the Yule Ball was being held. It was a time that they could allow themselves to truly become women, and dress the part, as the school robes were rather uniform and closely matches what the boys wore, aside from their skirts versus the boy's trousers. But times as they were in Wizarding Britain, she had come to take it as the norm and not question it, but this was an opportunity to wear what she'd like, robe wise, and Hermione, along with the majority of the other mages, both male and female, were ecstatic to learn that there were ways to crafts robes and other items with their powers.

It had been a true discovery, based upon a small clue that Harry had given Hermione long ago, regarding conjuring items of pure magic that could refuel the energies of a tired mage, which she had taken and wondered about. If conjuration was a subset of what they were capable of, why not taking the next step and make more than just temporary, magical food that actually didn't completely sustain life.

She had experimented and found that she could easily enchant any object with pure Arcane magic, allowing it to have wondrous benefits, but it was difficult, until once again a visit to Harry's tent on the grounds had given her the breakthrough she needed.

A simple copper rod, with runes carved upon it to better channel the Arcane magic, gave her all the ability she needed, along with small bobbles that were reduced to powder and pure magic essence as components, and together she could easily craft many interesting and powerful modifications to items through purely magical means.

The mages would indeed be the best dressed at the upcoming Ball, and Hermione was determined to outshine them all, as she ought to be, with her date being Harry Potter himself, which meant that she would be part of the opening dance, with all eyes on her. It was rather flustering, but Hermione had dealt with the attention before, recalling two years previous at the Malfoy's Yule celebration, so this ought to be no different.

Closer and closer Christmas day approached, and she devoted more time to this craft, making the robes she had chosen both beautiful and functioning, just in case she was ever caught in a dangerous situation in them, as she planned to reuse these dress robes as long as she fit into them. She even conjured and magical designed false gems and crystals to adorn the robes, and accessories to draw attention to her face, her eyes specifically, and away from her hair, which would only lie flat after an hour application of witch's beauty product, which was just not feasible for everyday use.

But for such a special occasion, she was pulling out all the stops. When the magnificent day arrived, Hermione didn't even think much about her presents, and time seemed to slow until at last it was time for the Ball to begin. She went alone down to the Entrance Hall, where Harry said he'd be waiting for her, and the other students parted way to make room for her, thinking that some sort of exotic Sorceress had appeared right out of the legends of old. In part, through what muttering and awes she heard as she walked, they were correct.

The thought of what people were saying drew her mind to when Professor Dumbledore had apologized vehemently when she confronted him about defeating Morgan le Faye without her, and explained the dangers that they had faced, and how even the ancient witch had used powers similar to themselves and Malfoy's group, which the Headmaster named as warlocks. Hermione was not one to judge, but the term did usually come with negative connotations, and she felt that it fit through the evil taint of the magic.

Pushing such grim thoughts aside, she looked over the Entrance Hall for her date to the Ball, and found him almost instantly, as there was a wide gap around him where the students had cleared a path for him, much similarly to herself.

Clearly, in working with her to perfect this sort of magic, Harry had gone and done the same with his own set of dress robes, and Hermione knew, looking about at even the other mages that had used the Arcane to enhance their outfits, that they were indeed the jewels of the student body, literally glimmering as they walked.

"Like the ancient and noble Quel'dorei, you appear marvelous Miss Granger," Harry said, kissing the back of her hand like a proper gentleman. Hermione wasn't sure what the reference was, but it sounded quite nice. She would research it later, after the emotional high of the Ball faded away, she was sure, but for now she decided to just turn down her inquisitive nature and live in the moment for a time.

"Shall the Champions and their dates please come to the front here please," Professor McGonagall announced, beckoning them all, even as the other students started to filter inside. Hermione was very pleased to find the French champion staring jealously at them both, even though her date seemed enraptured in only her. Hermione ignored her, as she was busy acknowledging the stares and appreciative sounds that her classmates were making in her and Harry's direction as they passed.

Hermione tried her best to take it in stride, but it was indeed a lot of attention, not only for herself, as many did not recognize her at first, but Harry had always owned an extremely striking presence, one that drew others to him, and while there probably were many students afraid of him, they nevertheless were insatiably curious of him.

Only once every other couple that was attending was inside the Great Hall did Professor McGonagall arrange them into a line of pairs, and led them into the hall amid the applause of their classmates. Hermione sensed the pure excitement that radiated through the completely changed room, which seemed to sparkle with all that winter offered in beauty, but there were undercurrents throughout the hall that repulsed her somewhat. Dread, anger and hatred sparked through the arcane lines, as though even now it was gearing itself for battle.

Each of the Champions and their dates approached the Head Table, where Professor Dumbledore and the other judges of the Tournament waited for them, bowed or curtseyed, before moving to the side and taking their seats at the table, making room for the next couple. Hermione and Harry were naturally last, and she had to slow herself to match his almost ethereal gliding pace, which she had to admit allowed every spare moment to further dazzle and awe the assembled students with how absolutely marvelous they looked together.

She curtseyed to the head table, but Harry merely inclined his head, not trusting those at the table by so much as adverting his eyes. Professor Dumbledore's expression was unreadable, but they were not stopped, and continued to their seats around the same table, Harry conveniently taking the chair opposite the Headmaster after making sure that Hermione was seating before him.

The crystal plates and silverware before them gleamed, and everyone waited for instructions on how the food was to be served, Headmaster Dumbledore was the first to move, picking up the menu that was upon the plate, and said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops," and they appeared.

Suddenly aware of the idea, everyone around the table started placing their own orders. Hermione noticed that Harry took an extremely long time, as though savoring each and every word of the various dishes before making a selection, but eventually a steaming rare steak dominated his plate, along with roasted potatoes and various greens for color.

"Have you been keeping up with your learning of English," she asked him casually, not drawing attention to the small weakness that had plagued the boy three years ago, and slowly chewed her own food as he responded.

"Only somewhat, thanks to the spells I learned I more or less have grasp on the language and moved on to others. There are a few things that I still struggle with, but not enough for people to notice offhandedly. You've always been the exception to that rule however…" he added, teasingly, and Hermione blushed.

Conversation continued around the table in a congenial manner, but never did it extend to more than two seats away from a particular person, as that would have been rude without engaging the entire table.

It took a strangely long time for dinner to conclude, as Harry only spoke when addressed directly, and Hermione was probably the only one to do so. Others across the table seemed to want to, but propriety prevented such a thing. Hermione found herself glancing around at the other tables, just to see who was where and a few other familiar faces in the assembled crowd.

Most of her mages had paired together, the older students bringing the younger as a courtesy, and Draco was there was many a warlock as well, which probably was what was leading to so much tension in the room. She spotted Lord and Lady Malfoy in the crowd, at a rear table speaking with some reporter and her cameraman rather intently.

"I see Lucius used his position as Governor to get into the Ball," Harry commented at her shoulder, also looking around, "they have been very kind to me, and I am glad that they were allowed to attend. They do love their son very much, and miss him during the school year."

Hermione smiled at that, and returned to finishing the food on her plate. It took some time longer, but at last when all were finished eating, Professor Dumbledore stood as their example, and all followed his lead. With a gentle wave of his wand, the tables shifted to the edges of the room, opening up the central area as a dance floor, even as the Wizarding Band, the Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage to some wild applause from the students.

Hermione smiled at Harry, wondering just now if he even knew how to dance. "You ready?" he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her down to the dance floor.

They were positioned quite front and center out of all the Champions, probably by design of Harry when the music started, and he quite expertly started into a slow waltz.


	49. C48: Fluidity

**Thanks for the many reviews, as we take one step closer in the story. please enjoy the newest uploaded section! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Eight**

 **Fluidity**

Draco watched from the sidelines of the dance floor for a time, with Pansy Parkinson on his arm, even as Lord Nobu'tan made the dance floor his own with Hermione Granger, both of them seeming to shine with inner light from all the enchantment and jewels that were upon their robes. It was as though two magnificent beings had appeared straight out of the Feywilds to attend, glimmering as though they were magical beings among mere mortals.

"I've never admitted this to anyone," Pansy said at his side in a quiet voice, "but she really is quite beautiful." And Draco had no choice but to agree, as both a male's prerogative with a potential future spouse, and because it was the truth. Granger could look more gorgeous than any pureblood witch alive when she worked at it, and that was a saying something when you factored in magic.

"We can't let then have all the attention to themselves," he said after a few moments of appreciating the moment, and took her hand to walk out onto the floor. Pureblood grace met together in a wonderful waltz, and soon they were slowly orbiting the literally shining couple, where were already collecting several onlookers and admirers, not to mention that the camera crew for the many reporters attending couldn't stop taking pictures of them, even over the Veela tramp from the French school, much to the latter's irritation.

"Potter, Granger," Pansey said casually as they circled, "looking absolutely radiant this evening."

"Thank you Pansy," Granger replied, "you look splendid as well."

"Not nearly so much as the pair of you," the Slytherin girl and budding warlock gushed, "every eye in the Hall is on you both, I doubt that there will be many other pictures in the papers over the next few days, as every shot seems to be of you. How did you manage to make everything so eye catching, we simply must swap some beauty secrets. If you like your hair that way, I know a few charms that are far easier than daily potion baths, although I doubt they'd pull off that same sheen that you've achieved."

Draco exchanged glances with Nobu'tan, looked as equally bored with the girl's talk as they talked across both their dance partners, but continued rotating on the spot. Granger seemed in her element, which was strange enough in a social setting, but then again Draco knew well enough that appearance contributed a great deal to one's confidence, and when you were literally the Bell of the Ball, it tended to make one very sociable.

Once the initial song ended, and they applauded the band, both couples drifted to the side tables, and rested for a bit while the girls made plans for exchanging a few of their techniques that made their daily lives easier.

Meanwhile, Draco guided Nobu'tan off toward his father, under the premise of 'getting refreshment,' for their dates.

"My Lord," Lucius said, where he was seated with Draco's mother, who was keeping watch as her husband spoke in a low voice.

"Lucius, I see you managed to once again participate in watching over me despite the supposed regulation of the Tournament," Nobu'tan teased, smiling fondly at the Pureblood family.

"Well, we are nearest magical kin, unless you'd like me to fetch your muggle relations and arrange to have them arrive for the next event." Lucius suggested.

The lead warlock almost looked like he would be sick at the suggestion, "I thought not," Lucius continued with a smirk, "I must ask however, why I cannot detect your power within the magic we hold in common nearly as strongly as it was before…"

Draco watched Nobu'tan's mouth press into a thin line, almost unwilling to answer. "Might I take a guess," Lucius pressed, "Something happened, perhaps a confrontation between yourself and Dumbledore, and some of your powers were stripped? Taken from you perhaps… that is why you wished for extra guards and those very specific components for rituals."

Nobu'tan looked away, "So long as I have a plan of action, Dumbledore's little arcane lock will not last long against all the might I have to bring to this. He overestimates himself to be cleverer than I, so I allowed him to believe it, but he will learn in time that I am not some two-bit Dark Lord for him to out maneuver to his own ends."

"So long as that remains the case, I see no reason to interfere for now," Lucius agreed, "all the preparations are ready for you word of command to move them into place, but I believe your dates will soon start to wonder where you two went off to, get them their drinks and enjoy yourselves tonight. There will be time enough for this sour business in its due." he said dismissively, with a glance at Draco's mother.

Even as they left however, Draco caught his parents sharing a meaningful glance and hurried whispered conversation, before with a smile they strode onto the dance floor themselves, elegantly showing the children the poise of the Purebloods.

"Your fathers concern is noted, and understood with his invested interest in my goals," Nobu'tan said quietly as they returned to their dates with punch in hand, "but I am doing well enough as is, and will be more than grateful for a small amount of trust that I can take care of myself. Do remind him of that when you can."

"Of course," Draco replied, having no such plans to do so. He was not going to be put between the first and third members of the council in this matter, and casually glanced around to make sure whether they had been observed. Moody was in the corner of the room, watching them closely, as was Snape in the opposite side of the room nearest the doors, so it was without saying that they had been at least seen speaking with his father, if not overheard.

"Dumbledore will know some of what has transpired here between us all." he informed Nobu'tan.

"Naturally," the warlock replied, "what else was there to suspect being inside his domain. But there is little else we could have done regarding it, nor is there much he can do to both contain me and stop us effectively."

Draco nodded, and together the pair of warlocks decided that they would take Lucius' advice for the rest of the evening, and enjoy themselves as much as they could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor was quite unsurprised when Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy arrived at the Yule Ball, bypassing him as merely part of the décor, and participating fully in the event as though they were back at school. It was the man's right as a Governor to oversee the happenings of Hogwarts, even if few ever took up that charge and actually came to the school. If not for the ulterior motives, it would be commendable on his part, but after watching Malfoy's child and Potter seek them out after the first dance and speak with Lucius for a time, it was clear that all the Order of the Phoenix's suspicions regarding the pureblood were correct.

Lucius was more than entangled with the activities of Nobu'tan, and clearly this had been just one in a countless chain of communications that the man was going between the warlock. Alastor had already seen the man chat up the reporter, Skeeter, clearly trying to feed her more information that Albus had left out of his article regarding Potter, probably things that slandered the Headmaster as much as possible, which would please the old bat Skeeter greatly.

How Alastor would like to get his hands on Malfoy, just to find out how much he had learned from Potter, and whether they were merely political allies, or something more deeply connected. The thoughts of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy as a warlock were just unbearable to comprehend, but the slimy man would be more than keen to prevent even a whiff of Dark Magic to be detectable on his robes, let alone something easily discovered by current Department's Aurors.

The only evidence they had, circumstantial at best though it was, was the presence of demons on the man's property over a year previous, when they had found Potter there when the family had supposedly been away.

Alastor would suggest to Albus that they keep a tighter watch on the man's actions from here on, perhaps they could finally get the drop on what Nobu'tan overarching plans were, as it would seem that Lucius was the go to man over them while the Tournament had the lead warlock otherwise occupied.

Personally, Alastor would relish the opportunity to spy on the man, but his official position as the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher wouldn't allow such a thing. Glancing over at the man's son, still with Potter and their corresponding dates, the aged Auror considered the other possibilities. Perhaps it was well past time he took some matters into his own hands regarding the teaching of some other groups, which Albus had hinted at as a possibility, but never fully gave him the green light to pursue.

Watching as Granger danced with Potter in another, faster paced, bout across the floor, he smirked. Yes, it would be perfectly ironic to turn the girl and her followers into the very tools used to defeat the same mad child that threatened their world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was difficult to admit, but Nobu'tan actually enjoyed the small amount of levity that he was afforded through the Yule Ball. Even days after he couldn't help but smile at the memory, but unfortunately as with all good things it had to pass, and the work he had set himself to do had to return.

Edgran and his centaur were a great assistance, as not only had their appearance been surprising enough to deter many from approaching his tent as of late, but many of their fairer minded brethren were becoming quite adept warlocks in their own rights, and with just the right instruction would be more than effective enough in assisting the ritual that Nobu'tan had designed to break Dumbledore's little arcane lock over his power.

The unfortunate side was learning such a ritual, and more importantly tailoring it so that it would not accidentally kill Nobu'tan in the process. It was agonizingly slow, but a needful task, one that all the ogre mages, including Teg'Ramm to what extent his injuries allowed, were devoting all their time and power toward, but it wouldn't be ready in time for the second task, which Nobu'tan was already angered greatly regarding.

Luckily his power to retain his breathing remained, as it was such a minor enchantment, but he would be mostly relying on the power of the Arcane to protect himself under the water.

To occupy his time, and draw his attention away from those maddening future events, Nobu'tan turned once more to his other occupations, readying what items he could think to use before and during the task. Potions of water breathing were paramount, as he wasn't sure if his spell would be able to last long enough, nor whether whoever was taken would be capable of breathing on their own once rescued.

Scrolls of protection, many items that he had stockpiled in case of such events, things he had been planning to save until the final battle that ushered in the Legion, but alas, times were not on his side always.

"Lord Nobu'tan, Humans come in cloaks of red and grey," Edgran announced from outside the tent, and the warlock swore loudly. He did not need these Ministry fools to come again to assail him. Was it not ridicules that they would so wantonly poke the sleeping beast on the grounds of their children's school, or were they preying on the fact that he would not harm the innocent.

Storming out of the tent, Nobu'tan took only a few moments to recognize that yes, once again it was Ministry Unspeakables and Aurors, here to forcefully harass him, and he didn't wait beyond that for them to approach.

"Kill them!" he commanded, conjuring an arcane barrier around himself, before drawing deeply on the leylines under the earth at their feet. Fire came easiest, only marginally affected by his affinity for the Fel, barely giving it a green tint as it roared across the snow covered grounds at his enemies.

"I will not continue to tolerate such insults!" Nobu'tan roared at them, even as explosions of arcane and flame roared from his hands, and the wizards scattered to avoid the turmoil that he caused. Surprisingly, they actually turned and fled, rather than stand and fight, to which the weakened warlock laughed them to scorn.

Returning to his tent, Nobu'tan refused to even give another thought to the weak minded cowards, as he had excessively too much to think about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus watched as the Unspeakables in charge of the latest expedition to investigate Nobu'tan returned to him. "You were correct Headmaster," the man said, "Potter has changed what style of magic he uses."

Albus nodded. He had paid quite a bit in his political connections and leeway for this favor from the Unspeakables, namely passing along the basics of Arcane magic, and promices to instruct some of their researchers further once the Tournament ended, but it was well worth it to have them keep up the pressure on Nobu'tan for a time.

Albus had suspected instantly that the boy would fall back on his other abilities, and even still, and underhanded as it was, Albus knew that he would need to strip him of that access as well if he was to render the boy completely unable to summon the Legion. But the appearance of his centaur allies threw a wrench in the works of that plan, as now there were far too many defenders to prevent the Ministry to getting close enough to activate the charms that he had put in place.

"Ah well, I suppose we will have to find another method to stop this flow of dark magic," he said slowly, keeping his eyes always on the Unspeakables. Those who studied the aspects of magic always tended to be the most astute of the various departments of their government, and Albus wouldn't put it past their members to finally see that something was off of the stories that they were being told regarding Nobu'tan and the full reasons as to why Albus wanted him stopped.

As far as they currently knew, much like what was reported in the _Daily Prophet_ , Harry had been taken and likely altered by forces unknown for reasons that had to do with demonic summoning. Granted, he was already being demanded for more details from several political groups, the Unspeakables included, and the Tournament itself was the only factor delaying that undesirable meeting, but for the time being he had the majority of their cooperation in trying to tear Nobu'tan away from his protectors and allow Albus to detain his magical ability so that they could try and remove the supposed conditioning that the boy had suffered through for so many years.

The Ministry wanted to fully obliviate him and restart afresh with the boy, but Albus was highly against that. Vile and dark as Nobu'tan might have become, he wouldn't wish a totally erasure of his identity, the guilt alone would drive Albus to his grave.

More importantly, there would still be the matter of the Burning Legion. With or without Nobu'tan the demons would continue to strive to enter their world. It would benefit the world far more if they could convert Nobu'tan back to them, as his knowledge alone would be invaluable in sealing their world off from the demonic invasion to come.

If they honestly went through and destroyed that precious knowledge of how and where the Legion was planning to enter their world, they would be woefully unprepared for the destruction that may come far sooner than they wished to believe. But naturally the Ministry refused to think of such things ahead of what would immediately solve the problems in front of them.

That was the core reason why Albus had so involved himself with the Unspeakables, making deals with them to prevent further attacks trying to kill or forcefully remove Nobu'tan, but rather just to keep watch on him, and a presumption that the boy was still under threat.

Even with all of the precautions that he was taking to make sure that the important capture went without a hitch once he made his final move, which he was planning for the eve after the third task, it was still a great balancing act between keeping the Ministry occupied and making sure that Nobu'tan was going to be separated from his bodyguards at the right moment.

Despite this, and the great need for the act to protect their world, Albus had a great deal of pressure and guilt, knowing that there would be great dangers for not only his fellow members of the Order of the Phoenix, but the other children and those who took part in the Tournament as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had a strong feeling that something was off when he was summoned out of the Slytherin common room the day before the second task. If it wasn't so close to the Tournament event, he would have greatly suspected that it was something else in relation to the battle between Dumbledore and Nobu'tan.

Arriving at the classroom where he was designated to go by Snape, when the man had come to announce the need, standing outside of the common room because of the guards that the warlocks had stationed to protect their secrets.

He was prepared for both Moody and Dumbledore to be there when he arrived, but he was not prepared for other students to also be in attendance. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy, we are all assembled now," Dumbledore said, rising from the chair he was sitting in and walking around to address the Draco and the other three students that were present.

"As you all are no doubt wondering why we've summoned your four to be here, we shall explain." Dumbledore started, "the fourth task, which will take place under the Black Lake tomorrow, is about the Champions rescuing someone important to them from a merfolk village at the center of the lake, and you four have been selected as the, for a lack of a better term, hostages."

It was exactly as Draco had thought, and he understood why Nobu'tan was so agitated regarding the upcoming task now, as it was highly unlikely that Dumbledore and his people wouldn't try something if they had Draco or another of the warlocks under their control for any amount of time.

"You will all be perfectly safe, under a spell that will keep you asleep and able to take in the air you need from the water, which will break only when you resurface once again, either when your assigned Champion rescues you or after the task is over when the merfolk are to return you all in the event that the champions do not succeed." the man continued to reassure the others, but Draco had overall stopped listening.

He only snapped back to the present when Moody started advancing on him with a drawn wand, having already put the enchantment on the other three with their permission. "And if I choose not to be the hostage?" he asked, but the scarred man just smirked.

"Too little too late, young Mr. Malfoy, by showing up you accepted this role, now if you'll kindly lie down, we'd rather you not fall and hurt yourself when I've finished." The man said gruffly, without a trace of concern or care.

Knowing the he was being observed, and that there were no other options that he was allowed to take, Draco complied, repressing the shudder as Moody's magic wafted over him, coaxing him unwillingly to unconsciousness. Draco's last thought before darkness claimed him was that Nobu'tan would be furious when he learned of how this was accomplished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan could start to feel the chill as he stood with the other champions on the makeshift pier waiting for the announcer to stop talking and start the second task. The other three had on heavy robes over whatever they were wearing to enter the lake, but Nobu'tan lacked any such clothing that he was willing to leave behind, and therefore aside from the satchel that held his potions and scrolls he had left most other items and unnecessary clothing with his guards, waiting on a side part of the bank of the lake.

Whether anyone cared to take note of that fact, or were too busy staring at his toned body, Nobu'tan didn't care. He knew quite well that, due to his extensive training with orc youths so long ago, and the minor modifications that came from that he and Gul'dan had employed on his growing body that he appeared to be quite a selective specimen of human, quite their design if he was to be a frequently used spy inside the human kingdoms that the Horde had wanted to destroy, but he had almost forgotten that many would find it that appealing to look at.

Irrelevant information aside, he swept what limited spells he could across the lake, without drawing attention to himself naturally, trying to look for where Draco had been placed. He knew who had been taken, due to the blonde's lack of appearance to support him, and Nobu'tan had almost smirked at how the foolishness of Dumbledore had made the task all the easier for him.

He could very easily sense the aura generated by his fellow warlock, even in his weakened state, and that would prove to be an even better sense of direction than whatever method they were supposed to locate their hostages by.

Soon enough they were given a precious few moments to prepare anything they were going to use for the task, and Nobu'tan hastily withdrew the four scrolls that he had brought. Eyes watching him, he activate each one in quick succession, watching the parchment burn up in his hands as the magic consumed each in turn, layering him with protective magic from the cold of the water, from anything that might attack him, and to aid in his ability to move swiftly through the lake.

Finally, he uncorked the potion of water breathing, which he would be using in addition to his spell, and waiting for the signal to dive, not wanting to waste a second of time with the potion in his system.

The deafening bang of the wand was the signal, and Nobu'tan hastily swallow the entire vial-full of potion, diving headlong into the water and hurriedly kicking with his might to propel himself in the direction of the Fel aura.

Nobu'tan knew that he was not a strong swimmer, as the orcs had not found it a skill worthy of their warrior's time, nor had Gul'dan thought it important either, but with the ability to breath normally, it wasn't difficult to pick up how best to move beneath the water, and soon he was cutting a path like a fish toward the center of the lake, where he suspected that the merfolk village would end up being located.

Giving the long beds of weeds and other kelps a wide berth, as they most likely were filled with other irritants that he did not wish to be distracted by, Nobu'tan quickly heard the sound of mersong, and through the gloom of the water he started to make out a massive statue and the semblance of a community under the water.

These creatures were waiting for their appearance, with a complete choir beckoning them closer, and four captive people tied with weeds to the statue's tail. Not recognizing or caring about the others beside Draco, Nobu'tan swiftly swam to his friend and ally, using a minor amount of Fel fire that he could channel to sever the freshwater kelp that held him there, and quickly fishing in the satchel for another potion.

How he would get the boy to swallow it was a mystery however, and quickly Nobu'tan decided to just tow the fully dressed pureblood behind him, unfortunately slowing him down with all the drag that the boy's clothing created. Infuriating robes, but Nobu'tan knew that the second of the Council of the Black Harvest would not forgive him if even a button was left behind, and so he continue pressing upward while grasping Draco around the waist.

The other champions were nowhere to be seen, but Nobu'tan wasn't about to allow himself to be distracted by the competition. He was however concerned when several large shadows moved in the corner of his eyes, almost stalking him through the water.

That was the last thing he needed, to be attacked when he had such a disadvantage as carrying Draco's body behind him. He saw the movement again on his other side, and turned quickly to spot a long tail darting back into the gloom.

Fire would be useless in large amounts here, and his other abilities would function far differently underwater, so Nobu'tan continued to push upward, trying to gain as much ground toward the surface as he could, but at the same time preparing something to counterattack when whatever it was decided to make its move on him and Draco.

The warlock was not disappointed, when just out of range of sprinting to the surface, something soft and slimy latched onto his leg. Jerking the limb to the side, Nobu'tan looked down and spotted the horrendous creatures that lived within kelp beds. Grindylows, dozens of them, and what appeared to be some sort of merfolk hunter behind them, crude spear aimed at Nobu'tan's heart.

Whatever it wanted, which Nobu'tan was sure wasn't going to be in his best interest, went unknown as frost magic erupted from the powerful caster. The water around his legs cooled drastically, some parts of it freezing around the little beasts, even as his free hand launched dagger-like icicles at the hunter, surprising him long enough for Nobu'tan to heave Draco's body upward, where it would likely float to the surface on its own.

With his other hand free, Nobu'tan could better defend himself, and readied more frost magic that would eventually freeze the water around him and his attacker completely, but that would be a fair price to subdue the aquatic humanoid that dared to interfere.

One of the Grindylows came flying at Nobu'tan's face, and he instinctually swatted it away, only to cut his hands on the hardened spikes that covered the horrible little beast. But even that paled to the searing pain as the hunter's spear found its mark, digging into the warlock's shoulder.

What was worse, the hunter had kelp rope tied to the spear, and was using it to try and drag Nobu'tan further down and away from the surface. Grasping the weapon in his uninjured hand, Nobu'tan's world lit with arcane magic as he permitted the cold to freeze the weapon solid, breaking easily as he left part of it in the wound. The last thing he needed was more blood in the water attracting who knew what else to his location.

Aiming a powerful kick at another offending Grindylow, Nobu'tan struggled to gain some altitude toward the surface, but the merperson arrived, grapping him with the sticky webbed hands, and murmuring something in a strange, bubbly language that had to be their native tongue.

Nobu'tan wasn't having it however, and allowed himself to unleash the taste of fire upon this creature, who probably until that time had never experienced the raw heat or burning pain of such a thing. Short range blasts of flames quickly extinguished in the water, but the super heated bubbles were more than enough to sear the scaly flesh of the underwater creature, and in shock and fear it darted away, its pets chasing after it in fright.

Grunting in pain, Nobu'tan kicked feverishly to the surface, blood trailing behind him as he caught up with Draco's body, catching him with his one good arm and kicking the rest of the way. They broke the surface together, and Draco snapped awake, coughing and sputtering at the sudden shock of being in the lake.

The boy swore loudly, and Nobu'tan smirked for a moment as Draco started to tread water on his own, before starting for the pier. Nobu'tan followed as quickly as he could, his injured arm and hand feeling like numb weight as he dragged himself through the water, and had to be helped out of the lake.

Looking around even as the Hospital matron started for him, the warlock briefly noticed that he indeed was the first one to return, but then he was roughly covered with a towel and the witch was hovering over him, wand working hurriedly to stop the blood flow and close his wounds.

Draco stood, acting as a sentinel to prevent anyone else from approaching Nobu'tan until the witch was finished with his wound, and presented him a potion to warm him up, which he refused, stating he had already taken care of that as precaution.

As soon as she left him alone again, Nobu'tan stood, seeking for the small boat that would take them back to the shore, but it was behind the judges, who seemed more than intent to keep him there until the task fully ended. The warlock's eyes locked with Dumbledore's, who looked partially worried but relaxed as they met the angry glare from Nobu'tan.

"It seems we will be here until the hour is up," Draco commented, coming to stand beside him.

"Teg'Ramm will not be pleased," Nobu'tan added, looking over where his other servants were waiting, specifically at one of the centaur that was crossing back toward his tent, likely relaying the news to the still confined ogre mage.

"It cannot be helped I guess." Draco said with a shrug, and quickly found a clean spot on the pier to sit, staying well away from the water, "two down, one to go I suppose." He added as Nobu'tan joined him.

"Seems that way," the warlock replied, checking to make sure that they were not being overheard, and catching the strange buzzing of a small beetle as it buzzed around the pier. Odd for such a small insect to be here of all places, and it seemed off to Nobu'tan.

Checking what he could sense via the Arcane, he wasn't remotely surprised to find that the beetle was indeed another witch, disguised as the insect. As it flew toward them, he nudged Draco to make him stop speaking, "We're not alone," was all that the warlock said, and deftly ignored the beetle as it tried to lodge itself nearby to him, even if he had to resist the urge to simply crush it. a spy no doubt, that would not go unnoticed if she failed to report most likely.

Draco caught the signals and noticed the beetle, and followed Nobu'tan's lead, refraining from conversation until it flew away, almost in an insect's form of a huff, "Animagus," Draco said as it flew out of hearing range.

"I presume that's the term for a shape-changer on this world?" Nobu'tan asked, the word being unfamiliar to him despite all his studies.

"Yes, high level transfiguration, Professor McGonagall can do it as well, but to a cat, if you recall from first year." Draco replied.

Nobu'tan more assuredly did, but had dismissed it as unneeded at the time, "I see," was all he replied before going silent again, conserving energy from the ordeal until he could leave this place and return to his tent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus only partially listened to the other judges mull over the points and processes once the last champion returned from the lake, well outside the time limit. There was no doubt that Nobu'tan would gain full points this time, as he had been by far the quickest to return with his hostage, very early indeed, even if he was attacked by something under the water.

Albus had tried to enforce some sort of monitoring system, but had been overruled by the rest of the judges, who clearly wanted only to hide what their champions were truly capable of, or what lows they'd descend to in order to win, but that turned into a net loss for him personally, as it was Nobu'tan that was the biggest threat with his tactics.

The fools wouldn't even reconsider it for the next task, which had been prepared well in advance of the change by adding in the warlock, so Albus had no options but to work with the maze as it was given for the fourth champion.

Still, with only a short four months left of both the school year and the Tournament, it was clear that he was running out of time to make his move to stop Nobu'tan once and for all from summoning the Legion. Leveling in additional security through the Aurors and the Unspeakables was just the tip of what he planned to do in secret for the Third Task, as they were all now convinced that Albus alone had the strength to compete with the boy one-on-one, which he begrudgingly accepted as fact.

But watching as the warlock and young Mr. Malfoy spoke in hushed tones at the edge of the pier, completely oblivious to the dealing out of points, or that Nobu'tan was now second in the running of the Tournament, Albus somewhat saw a bit of himself in their mannerisms, back when he was on friendly terms with Gellert. One the genius with gifted talents, the other a dangerously cunning mind filled with dark secrets.

Albus felt that there might be something that he had a knowledge of, something that they were planning that would be extremely unexpected, but propriety demanded that he show no 'favorites' by speaking directly to the Champions at this time, and it seemed that Nobu'tan was too far gone with his ideals to speak rationally to regarding the matter of the Legion.

Perhaps it was time for a different tactic, coming at this problem from a new angle, or a new person. Albus wondered what indeed Draco Malfoy's feelings on the matter were, and whether he would be more willing to aid in stopping the Legion from burning their entire world just for arcane secrets that they could try and learn from a different route.

This thought buoyed him through the end of the task, when all the Champions and hostages were released to go back and dry off fully, and the judges made their way back to their respective groups of students. Albus chose to go directly back to his office, and send Severus to ask the young man to join him as soon as possible.

In the meantime while he waited, Albus experimented with the Arcane, trying to follow particular individuals with glimmers of semi-sentient magic, thinking along the lines of the elementals of water that Severus and some of Miss Granger's students could summon, but instead of water a servant of pure magical energy.

Small wisps of arcane energy, moving on their own after small orders was his accomplishment before the familiar grinding of the staircase leading to his office was heard, and Albus discontinued his efforts. "Enter," he called at the correct time for Severus' strides, knowing who it ought to be on the other side of his door.

Severus opened the door, escorting young Mr. Malfoy inside, who looked far warmer and dryer than the last time Albus saw the boy, although the looks of suspicion were still present. "Ah, thank you for coming to speak with me on such short notice Mr. Malfoy," Albus said gratefully, "Have a seat, lemon drop?" he offered, but the Pureblood boy ignored the muggle candy, and took the seat directly opposite him instead.

"What is the meaning of this, Headmaster, for you to call upon me once again after the stunt you just pulled." The boy said hotly, making Severus shift as though to reprimand him, but Albus forestalled the Potions Master with an upheld hand.

"At the cost of sounding rather harsh, it has to do with the entire business of Nobu'tan and the Legion, but not in the way you'd expect I think," Albus said, giving the boy a knowing look when he started to shut down and ignore anything that he had to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was more than happy to just sit and tune out the old Headmaster if he wanted to try and get more information from him he would be in for the longest, quietest sit that he likely had since the Tournament began.

But the old man, curse him, had to go and throw the most interesting and gut wrenching question first, "What do you feel, regarding the Burning Legion and their plans to destroy the world in which you grew up, all for a one-way ticket to another world that you have never seen?"

Any thought that he had of silence or retort were dashed as he was brutally forced to consider, what was this new world that Nobu'tan promised to him? All he had ever known was the love of his family, and both Lucius and Narcissa were supporting Nobu'tan in his endeavor, so they had their own reasons.

"I…" Draco stated, before he completely lost trace of any concept of an answer.

As though seeing his dilemma from a mile away, the Headmaster smiled and nodded to himself, "You probably need time to come up with a full answer, but it is something I want to genuinely discuss with you, so just think on it while I explain our side of the problem."

It wasn't as though Draco had a choice or not, but the disarming question had left him vulnerable, "I understand that Nobu'tan wants to go back to the place he considers home, clearly that is where his heart remains, although why I do not begin to try and understand, but he is willing to go perhaps too far with his agenda to get there. I ask you if there is not perhaps another way to discover the means for him to get back there, without destroying our world in the process. Certainly he is angry with me, and many others for reasons that we prevented this or that for him, limited his freedom or simply that we didn't understand him, but can't you, his closest friend for lack of a truer word, see that he is overreacting to all of this?"

Draco tried, oh how he tried to follow what the Headmaster was saying, to see the lies within the words, but it was hard. The man was making too much sense, logically, to be able to be seen as a liar.

"Even if what you say is right, which I do not know for certain if you can be trusted, Sir, I cannot dissuade Nobu'tan from his goal, there is none that can, especially since he has servants that act outside of those in the Wizarding World on his side. And he is not alone, no matter what you think or want to believe; the Burning Legion is watching him at all times. If he betrays them, they will know." Draco said, almost cursing himself for even opening his mouth, but anything to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"That's why I need your help," Dumbledore continued, "If he succeeds and the Legion comes to this world, we are defenseless. I will train those I can to be Mages, whose magic will be better tuned to fighting the demons, but it will only take us so far. Promise you will leave warlocks, if we fail to stop Nobu'tan from opening the gateway, so that we can know what the demons are up to and combat them to the best of our ability."

"I…" Draco said, knowing that there was great danger in what the old man was trying to get him to do. "I need to think about it, about a lot of things…"

"Take all the time you need, but we do have a limited schedule before Nobu'tan plans to make his move, you would know more than I, I suspect." Dumbledore said, dismissing him.


	50. C49: Boiling Point

**Can you feel the change in the wind? We are close, so very close to the end of the Hogwarts arc, even as things start at last to pull together. Final chapters for Hogwarts arc will by the 1st and 15th of May, by order of the schedule. I am truly excited for you all to witness those chapters, as I am somewhat proud of what I accomplished for the finale of this initial arc. and then, glorious day, we progress onward. But, before we grow too excited, there is today's chapter, please enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Forty Nine**

 **Boiling Point**

Hermione was currently in the middle of a meeting of her Mages, locked away in the Room of Requirement, or thus had she named it for its magical properties. While many of the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students were practicing around the room, in the center on a raised platform, seated around a circular table, those that had been selected as the leaders sat in council.

Hermione naturally was the head of this council and neutral on opinion, while the representatives of the other Houses, Fay Dunbar and Colin Creevey for Gryffindor, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones for Hufflepuff, while Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein represented the Ravens.

"We need to counterattack those Slytherin warlocks," Anthony was saying, jabbing at the table with a finger as he rose from his seat, "They constantly flout their ability to defy the Headmaster and the rules of this school, and have made their threats to us particularly clear, and I will not stand for it!" he said hotly, far more action oriented than his House would lead one to believe.

"But they have not as of yet done anything…" Hannah countered, "Summoning those creatures and practicing their magic, vile though it is, is not wrong, nor does it harm us in any way…"

"But how long until they start?" Anthony argued, "Do we wait for the first mages to come back with injuries from their classes, or when one is killed before we do anything?"

"That cannot happen," Fay added, "with the magic that the Headmaster has woven into the corridors, we cannot wield any of our magic outside of this room or outside, so aside from those classes, we cannot be harmed…"

"I doubt that that will stop them for long," Anthony said angrily.

Just then, the doors, so long protected by enchantments of the castle burst open, and immediately the seven council members were on their feet, wand in hand and spells on their lips. Anthony had actually already flung a bolt of frost magic at the intruder, who batted it away with a blast of fire.

"Good reflexes, boy," said Alastor Moody as he stomped inside, the doors slamming shut behind them, "Constant Vigilance, you've trained them well Miss Granger, but now it's my turn to refine them…"

"Professor?" Hermione asked, concerned at the man's words and his tone of finality.

"I've been given authority by Dumbledore to start a 'defense' organization, which officially is for training students to defend themselves in these troubled times, but unofficially it is exclusively for mages to hone their skills for the very threats that young Mr. Goldstein is so fearful of." The man said as he approached the center dais.

Anthony looked smug at the vote of confidence, but Hermione was still unsure, "And why do we suddenly need all this extra training and attention, I thought that Professor Dumbledore was against using children for battle."

"Circumstances changed," Alastor said gruffly, pushing the concern aside as he conjured another chair at the table, across from Hermione, and sat down hard at it, "So, what am I working with…" he demanded, Looking over at Terry Boot, who was their recorder and note-taker, having an entire book filled with notes from everything such as their members and their discovery to their meeting agendas.

Rifling through his papers quickly, the usually silent boy piped up, "throughout all three houses and across all years we have sixty-two mages of various skill and ability…"

"Sixty-two, impressive numbers for so short a time," Moody said, impressed, "But Malfoy has easily more than half that number in warlocks alone, and then twice more in addition when you count demons… You see why you need more training now?" he added, wilting any sort of praise that he had given.

"So what do you recommend then, Professor?" Susan Bones, one of the more moderates in the council group, asked.

"Simple, you need to hold a massive meeting with all your members, so I can gauge who's up to what level, then we take to training them in more powerful battle magic that Albus and I have concocted for our various run ins with, unsavory, powers…" the man replied.

Hermione caught something, perhaps in the method that the Professor had halted when he was about to mention what it was that they had fought, surely it could only be those creatures that had kidnapped Harry and were trying to hold him against his will, but it seemed that there was more to it than just that.

Alas, she did not have the opportunity to question the man as she would have liked, as he stood then, banished his chair and made for the door, "Let me know the time, and I will be here when you organize your meeting, until then, Constant Vigilance!"

And he was gone. Hermione watched the closed door for several moments longer, even as the others argued about the logistics of getting all of their mages together at one time, and the changes to the Room that they'd need, so she went mostly unobserved in her musings.

Just what were the Professors hinting at with their half answers and lack of information. She had to know, she deserved to know, especially now that they were butting in on her group…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took time for his minor wounds to heal, but without the ability to go into the castle as he pleased, and his lack of trust for the infirmary matron, Nobu'tan decided it was best to let them mend themselves while he awaited the opportunity to begin the ritual that his ogre magi, led by Teg'Ramm, who was up and walking again, had formulated.

The current issue they were running into was the constant interruption by various wizards, either those from the school, the staff or other officials for the tournament, or spying by the Unspeakables and the Auror guards preventing them from commencing the ritual, as it had to be completely uninterrupted or Nobu'tan could not receive the full effect, or worse die.

In the end he had petitioned, through an eye of Kil'rogg that was provided by Teg'Ramm, to Draco and his warlocks to finally start engaging in active confrontations on the grounds between themselves and the mages under Hermione, as that would visible distract anyone from bothering Nobu'tan while he was indisposed.

It was a minor annoyance that they couldn't do so within the castle proper, as Dumbledore had layered the corridors with the same suppressing magic that he had struck Nobu'tan with, and none of the others, Mages or Warlocks, were strong enough to override its effects.

Nobu'tan had to admit, the man was clever, and irritatingly persistent in his ability to maintain order within his fortress, but there would be time enough to level it later. First however, he had to make sure he had the full gifts and powers that the Legion had granted him returned before he could even fathom making a move.

While the temptation to tell Draco to not kill any of the mages was high, he suspected that they would not have the opportunity to land any lethal blows, as only a fool would not see that the mages had been putting mountainous effort into their training, likely aided by Moody or Dumbledore, if not both.

Still, on the appointed day, he and his guards were ready, and when the first burst of sound of magic appeared on the far side of the grounds, they went to work swiftly.

Behind the tent, just out of sight of the castle towers and windows, they had prepared a ritual circle, complete with small rune stones that would help stabilize Nobu'tan's life force throughout the process. With the Fel-centaur warriors keeping watch for any sign of intrusion, Teg'Ramm took the head of the circle, the other ogre magi and warlock centaur forming up in a ring around Nobu'tan, who had laid spread eagle in the center of the circle.

Nobu'tan's entire contribution consisted of stabilizing his magic through the stones to perverse him, and leading the dangerous probes of Fel magic toward Dumbledore's lock, so that they tore apart only the foreign magic that was upon him and nothing else. It was to be a tricky procedure, but if they were successful, Nobu'tan could potentially rise stronger than ever before from this.

"Begin," Teg'Ramm stated, lifting his massive arms and channeling Fel power into the air, swiftly followed by the other warlocks around the circle.

At the same time that they were building the powerful destructive force that would crumble Dumbledore's spell, Nobu'tan reached out with the Arcane to the six stones around the circle, latching onto them like the lifelines that they were, preparing to allow their excess magic take hold if he went into any critical conditions.

Then, looking up helplessly at the swirling storm above him, he nodded, allowing the warlocks to proceed with infusing his body with the raw storm of Fel energy. Blearily, he knew that there was unlikely any opportunity to escape this without pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco knew that they were in the most risk in purposely provoking the mages at this stage, but Nobu'tan had demanded it, stating only that he desperately needed the distraction, and the will of the Head of the Order of the Black Harvest was to be obeyed.

They had specifically chosen a day and time when not only was Draco himself at Care of Magical Creatures with a great number of Slytherin fourth years, but there was also a cache of second years at Herbology as well, which added to their numbers drastically. The smattering of Mages throughout the other houses didn't stand a chance. The pair of classes was just heading down the grounds, well away from Nobu'tan's tent, when Draco sent the signal, a most unMalfoy-like scratch of the nose, and the imps they had hidden out of sight under their cloaks or robes burst forth, Fel fire spewing from their hands at every target in sight.

The pure wizarding children ran screaming in all directions, only some with fire on their robes, quickly doused in the snow surrounding their path, while the handful of Mages that were present leapt into action, as though expecting something to happen all along.

Several immediately leapt out of the way of the imps, retaliating with their own blasts of fire, while even more seemed to channel small bolts of arcane into missiles to throw not only at the demons, but at the warlocks themselves.

It was maddening how prepared they were, and only after a few moments Draco understood why. Their fighting styles all contained several unique qualities that he had seen once before, on a beach as they fought monsters while the Mages fought Morgan le Faye. Moody's fighting style, giving no quarter and fighting like madmen, and it was obvious that he was purposefully teaching these children to fight in war-like conditions.

Things suddenly turned very bad for the Warlocks, as they now had to summon even greater demons to counter mere children, some of which weren't even two years into their magical education, yet here they were fighting like they were battle-hardened Aurors.

Speaking of the wizarding police force, several exploded out of nearby brush, or around corners of various buildings, wands drawn and trying to contain the fighting, interposing themselves between the warlocks and the mages, sometimes catching a stray spell in the process.

Unfortunately it did not end there, as Draco caught sight of the grey robes of an Unspeakable, and knew that the game was up before it even began. He hoped that it proved to be the distraction that Nobu'tan needed, as there was going to be a massive payment required to stop all this from boiling to a head once Dumbledore arrived.

Just thinking of the Headmaster caused Draco to remember their very awkward conversation some time ago. Was this the sort of scenario that the old man had meant for him to consider when he started playing on Draco's doubts of Nobu'tan and his intentions?

Just then however, there was a powerful explosion of Fel magic from back toward Nobu'tan's tent demanded all of their attention. The Unspeakable swore loudly, commanding the Aurors to fall back to their positions, and Draco was almost prepared to make a run for the castle just so that the warlocks had reason to distance themselves from the Mages, but Crabbe and Goyle had different ideas.

The pair of destructive casters had chosen to take the opportunity to inflict as much damage as possible, firing off powerful bolts of pure chaotic magic at the nearest mages, who were too distracted to adequately put up defenses. Draco could only watch as the blasts of Fel struck the two smaller children, only second years, throwing them over fifty feet while their robes exploded into flames.

The screams that exploded in protest of the sudden and extremely violent attack chilled Draco's blood. "Scatter!" he commanded, and the Slytherins darted for several locations, some running toward where their classes were held, while Draco grabbed both Crabbe and Goyle and dragged them back toward the castle, the Fel empowering his physical strength.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm knew the moment they were to act from the nod by his master. As lead of the ritual he swiftly drove the conjoined magic down into the young boy's body, trying to be as gentle as possible as it threaded through the paths that the young warlock carved with the Arcane, leading through his body straight toward the lock that the vile Archmage placed upon Lord Nobu'tan.

They couldn't help the massive explosion of power that occurred once their torrent of Fel energy made contact with its goal, and the ogre mage knew that it would bring their enemies running to discover the source of the commotion.

That was what the warriors of the Fel Centaur were for, to block and combat any advance from the wizards until Nobu'tan was freed of the curse. The currents of power seemed to try and absorb into every corner of the boy's body, and Teg'Ramm struggle mightily to constrain it to only digging at the Arcane seal that blocked the boy's connection to the Fel.

Around them, the Fel Centaur started to yell their war cries as they engaged the wizards who had come to interfere, they having easily broken down the wards around the stones that protected them, as Nobu'tan had been unable to empower or modify their abilities for a time.

It seemed as though they were doomed to failure, as the wizards started to encroach ever nearer and the seal was unyielding, until with a mighty burst of power that caused a shockwave to ripple through the castle grounds, it was torn asunder and the might of the Fel was pulled greedily in by the warlock, who started to glow with the green infusion of magic.

Nobu'tan was writhing on the ground from all the excess power, siphoned into the various rune stones that they had prepared for such occasions, but even then there was simply too much released power, and one by one the stones started to explode as too much magic overloaded the runes inscribed upon them.

Teg'Ramm tried to end the ritual as quickly as he could, but it was unlikely that they boy would be unaffected by all the Fel magic coursing through him, above and beyond what even Nobu'tan had before utilized.

The wizards arrived just as this occurred, and Teg'Ramm turned with the other warlocks, closing ranks around their master to protect him from their spells, wielding what reserves of energy they had to fend off the oncoming wizards.

But then the ground shook once again, and Tog'Ramm spotted movement in the center of their circle, and Nobu'tan appeared among them, his skin starting to show the advanced stages of Fel infusion, turning a more motley color as his eyes glowed with the deadly green of Fel energy.

Hands almost resembling claws lashed out ahead, and Felfire flashed effortlessly wherever the boy aimed, quickly scattering the wizards and slaying a pair of the red robed guards.

"Eliminate them quickly," Nobu'tan commanded, his voice altered from the ritual, deeper and more demonic in sound, "I want no witnesses to my releasing from Dumbledore's spell. Bring the Unspeakable to me alive…"

With a roar of approval, the other warlocks felt themselves energized with Fel magic as they charged forward, laying waste to those wizards foolish enough to try and stand in their way. The Aurors were killed with great ease, their conditioning and tactics already broken from the unusualness of what had occurred, and the Unspeakable, who did managed to greatly injure several of the warrior centaur, was eventually subdued and dragged into the tent to face Nobu'tan.

"Now, what does the Ministry truly suspect of me…" the boy hissed as he leaned down to take the grey clad wizard and heave the man to his feet. The other man refused to comply, where upon Nobu'tan simply threw him back to the ground.

"If you will not tell me, I have other ways of retrieving the information I seek…" he said, eye narrowing wickedly as the Fel energy danced within them.

Teg'Ramm studied his master's new powers as he went about gleaning the information from the mind of the Unspeakable, utilizing a cadre of spells of both wizard and warlock origin to steal the information right from the unwilling mind.

It seemed that this influx of power was only temporary, as by the time he was finished with the Unspeakable, and had killed the fool, Nobu'tan's features had all but returned to normal, but at the same time there were a few things that seemed permanently affected.

For one thing, Nobu'tan's aura had assuredly darkened from the exposure to so much Fel energy, which added a powerful sense of malevolence when the boy was angered that was palpable to any near him. It also had affected any other magic that the restored warlock attempted to cast, transforming more of his abilities from with the wizard schools of magic or the Mage's Arcane to closely reflect the shadowy arts and destructive capabilities of the Fel.

It was nearly impossible now for the boy to conceal that he had restored his powers therefore, which was a small irritation that Nobu'tan expressed, as he had more than wanted to only reveal that he had broken Dumbledore's little lock when it came time for their confrontation, but it seemed that fate had decided otherwise, and he would have to use magic cautiously to prevent too much of a discovery if he still wished to operate in secret.

At least he had until the final task where he could lie low in the tent and plot with Teg'Ramm and the others that were present to assist him, which would deny the wizards too much insight into what they were up to until it was altogether too late.

The last news that they had from the human Lucius, with whom Teg'Ramm had from the Fel centaur leader Edgran was a rather interesting sort, for a human, had placed Nobu'tan in an excellent mood, as it described how the man was organizing their forces for when they took control of the stone circle that would function as the gateway for the Legion to enter their world.

Although when Teg'Ramm tried to remind Nobu'tan of this development to cheer him up from his bout of temper regarding the Ministry wizards, it did little to help him, if anything it just made the normally rather edgy child more cynical and less humored than before.

"We cannot fully trust what the Legion have promised to us," he said at last, after a time of brooding to himself, and the other chief warlocks that remained within the tent immediately turned their attention to the boy. "I have it on very good account that there is a strong possibility that, even if we succeed, the Legion will merely cast us aside in their blaze of _glory_ for themselves in destroying yet another world. I dare not try to confirm this, as the question the Legion would bring certain death upon us all, but I feel that there needs to be certain assurances in place just in case they attempt to betray us…"

Teg'Ramm thought hard on what Nobu'tan could possibly have meant by assurances, and only one thing seemed to strike him as a plan that had never made any sense to him that his master had devoted time and attention to. "The mages, including Dumbledore?" he asked, and the boy nodded.

"Lucius and the others haven't yet questioned it, but I feel that they might sometime before the end, but I purposefully allowed, after a time of resistance where I wasn't sure what I wanted, for these wizards to learn the arts of the Arcane, not only as a means to train my followers in having rivals and people worth actually combating, but as a fall back in case the Legion decided to betray me, so that there was at least a small bastion that could resist them. Even at the worse, it gives them a reason to hang onto me long enough to flatten these mages completely, which in turn buys me more time to learn of a way to Azeroth and out of their clutches, for a time…"

Teg'Ramm could understand the motivation, easily appreciate the duplicity, and even envy the cunning that it showed in his master for the forethought of such a plan, which had been set in motion purely by accident, then fueled purposefully in the direction offered by his own enemies.

"So we turn them against the Legion directly and profit from either side's victory." He surmised, to which the young warlock smiled.

"Precisely…" he responded with a wicked grin, "even as now my warlocks under Draco and they are fighting in and around the castle, which either way prevents Dumbledore and the Ministry from focusing fully upon my situation because of the very nature of their need for attention to be focused upon the school…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus mournfully looked at the paper as it fluttered in during breakfast early into March. All mention of the Tournament was reduced to merely a footnote of introduction followed by the newest headline: _**Battles on Hogwarts Grounds Threaten Safety of Students**_ _by Rita Skeeter_.

The woman was in fine form, and Albus was determined not to show his disappointment that he had failed to make something of an ally from the miserable harpy, as it was clear that Lucius had gotten his claws into the woman during the First and Second Tasks, and was now getting her to report anything she saw fit to use to discredit Albus regarding, which apparently now included revealing the existence of the Warlocks and Mages to the entire Wizarding World.

At any other time, in any other fashion, the populace of the Wizarding World may have had an opportunity to make up their own minds regarding the discovery of these new branches of magic, but now, with the negative spin that the spiteful woman had to use on the situation, greatly swelling the nature of the situation from what it was, a juvenile spat that went slightly too far, albeit with parties that had access to power well beyond their peers, into something that it wasn't, an attempted hostile takeover, it was now highly unlikely that even the Ministry would allow such magic to have so much as a chance to be experimented upon and examined for its merits, rather than simply labeled, both the Arcane and the Fel together, as Dark Magic.

With the disappearance of the Unspeakables that were investigating Nobu'tan, to which he accredited the mystery to without a second of thought, he had no one currently that could back his side of the argument when the hammer of the Ministry came down to squash out this _dangerous_ and _outrageous_ offense to wizard-kind.

Even as the Third Task drew nearer, Albus could easily sense the hand of Nobu'tan working against him, even without apparent use of his own magical powers the boy had influence to actually do some damage to the carefully stacked structure of the world that Albus was trying to cultivate, and that was most distressing of all. The boy was cunning, something that Albus had admired in many a student, even including Tom Riddle, but so very much like Tom, Nobu'tan was allowing that trait to be swayed to evil ends.

Yet, once again, it seemed that Albus was without support from outside groups in opposing this evil, much like during the first war against Voldemort. It was a saddening thought that their society was so fickle that it would not once, but three times turn its back on those trying to preserve what was right and good, but nevertheless Albus would struggle to do what he knew was proper. The Greater Good was while a torment to him from his past, the truth that he must abide by.

Carefully pondering the meaning of this sudden swelling of aggression by the two groups manipulated by the warlock, Albus could only think that there had to be some sort of scheme that they had been distracted by. There countless things that the boy was up to, more than even Albus was aware of, so he had little choice but to investigate as many as he felt safe to stretch out and see, which primarily included what those at Malfoy Manor were up to.

Arcane wisps, a seeming specialty that Albus alone was able to make of those he knew to be specialized in the pure arcane magic, flew from his hands at command, flying out the high windows of the Headmaster's office, out and across the landscape, seeking out those of darkness to spy upon and report back to their conjurer what evils they intended.

Albus just hoped that he had time yet to spare before whatever Nobu'tan planned would take place, although he had a frightening impression that there would be little time to act once the third task was complete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was pleased that at last, he had discovered Nobu'tan great secret of ripping open portals from one place to another, as it made secretly moving all their forces and supplies to a hidden location closer to Stonehenge much quicker and far easier to keep from notice of others, particularly the countless wisps of arcane magic that bore the signature of Albus Dumbledore, clearly trying to scry out their plans as they drew nearer.

He reminded himself to counsel Nobu'tan in caution, as the old man was dangerous if he was already guessing what they intended, and there was limited time to make adjustments to the plan before it was too late.

He had already received the missive that whatever problems that demanded the presence of the Fel Centaur had been rectified, however they would remain to protect Nobu'tan until he could depart from the castle for good, and Lucius felt that this was a wise choice, as it was completely foolish to believe that Dumbledore would allow Nobu'tan to just walk away once the Tournament concluded.

Still, the boy knew the plan, and Lucius would be ready to open all the extra portals that they needed to funnel his forces out of the school with all possible swiftness as they event panned out, leaving only those guards that he decided on keeping to prevent any treachery from coming to pass.

The other warlocks they had been training for so long seemed eager for the grand design to come to a close, and as the time drew nearer their anxiety seemed to intensify. It certainly didn't help that the Dark Mark seemed to grow blacker as the day grew nearer, and Lucius feared that they would be summoned by Voldemort at any time, which could potentially prove to be their salvation, if they rebelled as one and overthrew the madman, or their doom as he killed them for their betrayals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort was growing impatient. The third task, and the time for his plant to strike, bringing Potter to him was about to come to fruitarian. It had been a trying time, relying on Wormtail and his loyal servant for so long, but in the end it would all work out to his gain. He would rise once more, stronger than ever before, and the Wizarding world would tremble once again at the mere mention of his name.

Even as the last month before the task started to draw to a close, he wondered what the fool of a Headmaster, Dumbledore, would think when his precious Boy-Who-Lived died at the hands of that enemy that they had all hoped was gone forever…

There could be only one immortal in the world, and the Dark Lord Voldemort would be that one. He had demanded such respect for so many years, and the insult of his oversight and defeat would be repaid ten-fold upon those who thought him gone, including those of his servants that had done nothing to help him in his hour of truest need.

But first and foremost, he needed the boy, and there would be blood enough at that happy reunion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan knew that something wrong was brewing as the time before the final task grew near. A few weeks before it was stated to begin the four champions had been summoned out to the Quidditch pitch of Hogwarts, where a massive hedge maze was growing, and they were told, in effect, that the point system of the previous two tasks were them jostling for position of who entered the maze first. The first to touch the trophy cup won the entire Tournament.

Knowing that he technically stood at the greatest advantage, despite not the one with greatest points, because of his unique set of skills and magic that would allow him to blaze a trail through the maze, Nobu'tan wondered why he would even bother to win, but for some reason, he felt that it was a necessary thing to prove his superiority that he won…

It might have been a bit petty of him, but it seemed that perfect added insult that out of all these esteemed wizard children, it was the one that embraces another view of magic that succeeded, putting another nail in their flawed and narrow-minded scope of the world around them.

Still, now that he was staring at the fully grown maze, moments before the crowd settled into their seats and the Ministry announcer told the audience all of what was in store, he wondered what possessed him to care so much about a trifling game. It wasn't as though he paid any attention to it before, so why now?

He was distracted from his musings when the announcer indicated him as the second leading champion, and there was a burst of cheering and applause from the section of warlocks, who had done their best to monopolize an entire set of bleachers to themselves, and he was forced to smile for them and acknowledge that there was a great deal of support for him if the worst was to occur.

He had made sure to do everything in his power to make certain that all contingencies were covered, from careful placement of his allies, to having Lucius funnel his tent and items out to their forward outpost on the edge of Stonehenge while all attention was on him and the Task.

Still, he had a sinking suspicion that he had missed something, but it was already too late for that, as the announcer finished his monologue, and the whistle blasted once for the other Hogwarts boy, then again a few moments later, signaling for Nobu'tan to enter the maze and begin his several second head start for locating the Cup before the final two champions were released.

So he allowed himself to be swept up in the pressing need to end the Task as swiftly as possible, so that he could return to what he deemed a more valuable usage of his time. Naturally, the maze itself by nature was going to do anything in its power to prevent that, which the warlock learned quickly, as at the first junction there was a simply creature to block him, some small irritant that he would have learned about likely if he had remained at the school for the two years of learning that he missed.

As that had not been the case, he fell back onto the most standard abilities of the Mages, wanting to conserve the knowledge that he had regained all power of the Fel for as long as he could, Nobu'tan fired off bolts of Arcane magic at the creature, which did more than enough to frighten the thing into running down one of the passages.

Unconsciously, the warlock sent an eye of Kil'rogg to chase it, while he himself took the other path, navigating around and destroying several other creatures or obstacles in like manner, making certain to scout every possible choice that could lead closer to his goal. From this ability to see down every pathway available, he was sure that he maintained his quickly established lead over the others, and was able to take the swiftest course to the center of the maze.

The only moment that gave him pause in his forward progress was the appearance of the sphinx, its riddle challenging not only his mind in its complexity, but his grasp of the English language, however he was able to easily mull it out after a small time pondering. A Spider of all things, the purpose of the riddle was something of a mystery to Nobu'tan, until he got a good look at the passage beyond the sphinx.

"Oh great…" he muttered, immediate spotting the silvery strands of webbing above the hedges. It was clearly the work of a small Acromantula, but he could not see the beast as of yet.

Stepping carefully into the narrow path, he allowed flames to pour from his hands, illuminating the growth around him, annoyed at the dangerous green tint that had not left the arcane based fire since his release from Dumbledore's spell.

A captured sight of movement, and Nobu'tan unleashed his magic, blasting the massive arachnid as it attempted to climb the hedges and get out of his sight to attempt an ambush. Frightfully simple for any not limited to the wand-based magic of these wizards.

Striking past the stunned and slightly smoldering spider, Nobu'tan approached the plinth in the center of the maze, gazing down at the bluish glow of the Cup that would mark not only his victory, but the end of this blasted Tournament and his freedom.

From three other ends of the path, even as he reached forward, the other champions appeared; crying out to try and distract him, or in the case of the Bulgarian fling a spell at his in hoped to knock him away from the trophy.

"The game ends now!" Nobu'tan announced, choosing to say no more in gloating as he took up the cup in both hands. The sharp pull in his chest was unexpected, and the warlock found himself thrown to the clammy ground as the magic transported him somewhere else then the grounds of the school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco could sense Nobu'tan progress within the maze, as could most of those trained to detect magic outside of that naturally born to wizard-kind. Therefore when leader of the Order of the Black Harvest vanished from the grounds completely, he was the first of many to his feet. However, unlike Dumbledore and his allies who started for the maze in mass, or Granger and her mages who started to fret at the situation, Draco took this as his signal to depart the castle altogether.

Calling for his people to follow, they swiftly took their leave of the stadium around the maze, fleeing to where he had been informed that his father would be funneling away all of Nobu'tan possessions in preparation for the end of this game.

The massive ogre mage, named Teg'Ramm from what Draco recalled, was there, urshing in and out of a standing portal many of their other allies, carrying anything they could grab from the tent. "Nobu'tan has disappeared from the school, we need to leave immediately before we're blamed for the occurrence," Draco said with all the authority he could muster. The creature was large enough to be intimidating, even when Draco knew that it answered to the council just as much as any other warlock.

The twin heads of the creature looked him over, eyeing the rest of the students that had followed, warlocks in training all. "Grab items of the master as you go, and go swiftly. I can sense the mages swelling to come to this location."

Draco nodded, directing his followers to grab anything not nailed to the ground, and carry it through the portal. Himself taking a stack of ancient looking tomes and scrolls, he hurried at the head of the student through the vortex, where his father stood holding the portal wide with his power in the Fel.

"Draco?" the man said, confused, but maintaining his spell.

"Nobu'tan vanished, and we decided it was wise to withdraw completely from Dumbledore's presence before we are blamed or taken for other reasons," he explained swiftly, finding a place to set his Lord's things, "I need to know some things as well, before the end…"

"Yes," Lucius said, seeming to know what was on his son's mind, "I suppose that you are entitled to a few answers that we not housed at the school had riddled out a while ago. But now is not the time… go find your mother, we need to prepare more rooms for the students you're leading through." The man said, and Draco dashed off obediently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm watched as the last of the minions he had summoned, in addition to the children warlocks that had arrived helpfully, carried the last of Lord Nobu'tan possessions through to the main base of the Order.

Once it was all gone, he signaled to Lord Malfoy to close the portal, as they had means to signal for another if those that remained failed to locate their Lord and get him to safety.

The problem was that even as he turned to rejoin those forces that were no doubt already tearing through the wizards to find their Lord, others were approaching Teg'Ramm with the same desires of locating the boy.

The long beard of the Archmage Dumbledore was seen at the head of a trio of wizards, which even Teg'Ramm could sense were far more than they appeared. He remembered these three from their battles against various foes.

The mages were not to be underestimated, and Teg'Ramm was prepared for whatever conflict was about to happen, as it was clear that they were coming to demand answers that he would not give them, no matter what.

The three stopped just out of range of his size, and drew their wands, although they did not as of yet raised them aggressively against him, "Where is your master? What had happened to Nobu'tan?" their leader, the Archmage Dumbledore said quickly, and Teg'Ramm was pleasantly surprised that there was no tone of superiority in the old man's voice.

But regardless of the treatment he just received of seeming respect, he was not about to betray his master and closest friend for any reason. "I couldn't say…" Teg replied, even as Ramm kept his single eye on the lookout for any movement of their impending conflict, "and even if I did, telling you would be the last thing I would do…"


	51. C50: Casting the Die

**Many thanks to those who reviewed, and I have a requested topic of discussion. as we launch back into Azeroth, inevitably we will be touching on the timelines of Vanilla through Legion (at least) and I would like to know what plotlines, from the game, books or comic, out to be for sure included in the terms of the Stromreaver or even those ignored outright in my plodding through the timeline of the World of Warcraft. please include everything you want to see and want to not see, and I will see what may or may not weave well into the fabric that I am crafting. while I pride myself on knowing a great deal, there are some things (mostly the comics) that I do not know much of, so I may respond to some reviews with further questions, just so you are aware. Till next time, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty**

 **Casting the Die**

Nobu'tan knew that it had been a trap the moment he felt the magic activate, and he cursed himself mentally for his brashness in thinking that ending the Tournament would be that easy. Quickly, he sent off a spell that would notify Lucius that he needed to rescue the remainder of his forces from the Hogwart's grounds, even as he slowly stood and looked around at where he had been taken. The magic of the Portkey that had stolen him away didn't have the same aura as any of those that served Dumbledore, so he highly doubted that the man was involved.

Which left him pondering if it was the Ministry, after imprisoning him once again, but the surrounding graveyard that he found himself in was so drastically different from what he'd expect of those wizards that he found himself confused at the purpose of bringing him here.

That was until he focused on the monument that he had fallen closest to, which read a name that was familiar to him, from what history of his own tale he had bothered learning. ' _Tom Riddle_ ,'

The crunch of gravel underfoot turned the warlock slowly to find a pair of figures approaching, and he readied himself for a fight, not knowing exactly what to expect from these fools that would challenge a powerful servant of the Burning Legion, but even as he moved, one of the pair raised a wand.

So swift was the spell that even Nobu'tan hadn't had time enough to dodge or react before ropes surged out of the ground and wrapped around him, binding his arms painfully at his sides and slamming him backward into the tombstone, where he smacked his head roughly and saw starts behind his eyes.

"Excellently done," said a high, cold voice, even as the second figure conjured a black cauldron in the clearing where Nobu'tan had appeared. "Begin," the high voice said again, and Nobu'tan shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of the dizziness that had come from his heavy collision.

While the first figure watched him like a hawk, wand trained on him to likely prevent him from following through with any plan of escape that Nobu'tan could think of, the other produced a smaller something, swaddled in black cloth. The something squirmed like an infant, but as it was the source of the high pitched voice, it left little for the warlock to believe, other than it could possibly be the Dark Lord Voldemort, trying to kill him yet again.

Three years and the man was going to try again. To be fair, Nobu'tan supposed that the man had already waited nearly ten the first time, so his patience and slow burning seeds of vengeance must have run deep. In one of the deep pockets of his robes, something started to burn hot once more, and with a realization, he understood completely. The soul fragments were all part of this Dark Lord, like the Death Knights that Gul'dan had created, where their mortal frames were unable to be destroyed, as their souls belonged to another vessel.

Suddenly extremely interested, and somewhat curious, he watched transfixed as the smaller man, neither of who he recognized, placed the bundle completely into the water simmering in the cauldron.

"Bone of the Father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" the man said, gesturing in Nobu'tan direction. The ground before him split open, allowing a fine dust to fly up and into the cauldron. Archaic, Nobu'tan thought, but effective none the less, as the potion started to boil and changed colors.

"Flesh… of the s-servant, w-willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master…" the man said shakily, before drawing a silver knife from his robes. With one upward slash and a cry of pain, he sent his own hand into the cauldron. Nobu'tan only shook his head in irritation. Such a sloppy concept, but then the pair started approaching him, and he suddenly realized why he had been taken.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe…" the man said, drawing almost disgustingly close, as the knife pierced Nobu'tan's arm. He refused to even cry out as the metal found a vein, staining itself with his lifeblood, before hastily withdrawn. The man hurried back to the cauldron, flicking small droplets into the caldron.

"The Dark Lord will rise again," the other figure said, who had been silent until this time, and Nobu'tan thought there was something about that voice that he recognized, but it was hard to place at the moment, and he dared not use any magic to enhance his senses just in case the man overhear him and attacked. Better to wait until the perfect moment to strike than ruin his chances by getting knocked unconscious.

His attention returned to the cauldron, which was close to boiling over, and even as the smaller man scampered away, it seemed to implode inward, as the entire thing lifted into the air, shimmer and changed, becoming the form of a very tall and pale man, shadows forming around him into midnight black robes, as the new person's feet touched the ground.

The two figures knelt before the new form of Lord Voldemort, as that could be the only person that Nobu'tan could think of that would go through such an elaborate plan to capture him for this ritual. But the important part to note was that as the men bowed and scraped before their master, their eyes weren't on him, which gave him the opportunity he was seeking.

Quickly, he began to build up subtle amounts of Fel power, chanting softly under his breath to cut the time needed to draw the strength he needed to free himself and fight if need be. The crystal in his robe pocket squirmed and burned hot again, and Nobu'tan turned his head as much as he could, spotting the massive serpent circling around from the back of the stone, forked tongue tasting the air around the warlock, and realized that this must be another anchor, and he puzzled a moment over the fact that the man would willingly entrust it into another living creature.

Just then, the scar on his forehead seared with white hot agony, and Nobu'tan found his eyes dragged back toward the arisen Dark Lord, who was pressing his finger into the tattoo on the smaller man's arm, the one still with its hand.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it? The man whispered, his voice high and cold, almost faint, even as he watched the sky. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

Nobu'tan had to prevent himself from smiling at the man's folly, as most of the remaining Death Eaters that answered his call would be loyal to Nobu'tan alone. "Oh, Harry…" the man simpered, "I had almost forgotten that you were here."

Nobu'tan remained silent, letting the man prattle on, which seemed to anger the so called dark lord all the more. Voldemort grabbed the warlock's face roughly, causing the scar to feel as though it would tear his forehead right open, "You will pay attention when I speak to you Harry Potter!" the man shouted, "As it will be the last things you will ever hear before I kill you…"

But even the dark lord was distracted by the sudden sound of many swishing cloaks, as Death Eaters, his servants appeared from between graves around behind trees. Voldemort may have been unaware, but Nobu'tan could sense that the vast majority of them were his, only a small handful that was not part of the Fel pact that they had made to the Legion.

Voldemort released him to speak with his 'true' family, and Nobu'tan immediately went back to work pooling all the Fel power he could gather while being unnoticed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort could sense that something was different when his followers came to him, signaled by the bond they shared under the Dark Mark. Many did not quickly approach him, unlike the Carrows, or Avery, which came on bended knee and kissed the hem of his robes, as the good servants that they were.

The others however, numbered seven in total out of his innermost circle of twenty one followers. A third of his total followers that ought to be standing there, where as he only had about half that had returned at all. What the change in their magic was however, the Dark Lord could not place.

Around the circle of his servants he went, speaking to each of them, growing more concerned with their distance as he went. The seven he had sensed, Lucius, Nott, Macnair, Yaxley, Crabbe, Goyle and Dolohov were distant to even him, and their thoughts were shrouded in shadows from his sight.

He was most displeased about this, but no matter, no matter, there would be time enough to break every last one of these simpering fools back to the position that they ought to be in. returning his attention once more to Potter, Lord Voldemort felt that the time for the boy's demise had come at last.

"We mustn't let the festivities drag on too long, then," he stated, more to himself amid the speech he had been preparing for his followers for the course of the year. Rounding on the boy, he raised his wand to curse him, to show these fools that he was all powerful, but then he sensed it. The dark magic that flowed through Potter's body, just as green flames incinerated the robes that Barty Jr. had used to restrain him.

It was the same as most of his assembled followers. Which to his mind meant only one thing, "Treachery…" he muttered, turning to look at his supposedly loyal friends and servants, even as the seven out of their near dozen assembled muttered incantation among themselves, calling form horrors that Voldemort recalled only from what had felt to be a dream, hellish creatures that he vaguely remembered from that dreaded battle with Potter three years ago.

How had he forgotten so easily? But that was not important, as now the Dark Lord was betrayed, and brought the might of his magic down on these fools, even as their demons charged at him, surprising the Carrows, Barty and Wormtail.

Then an explosion of hissing and shrieking sent the Dark Lord staggering, and he spotted Potter, some purple crystal in hand, igniting his dear pet Nagini and causing the serpent turned Horcrux to wither and die in the cursed flames.

How could this have happened? He was the Dark Lord, and Potter was only a child, an infant to the world of magic, while he was the greatest sorcerer who ever lived. Even as Nagini died, and released the part of his precious soul that was stored therein, the boy gathered it close, infusing it with part of the crystal, which enraged Voldemort.

Crying with a loud voice, the power of his magic went in all directions, throwing back traitor and servant alike, and banishing their pets back to the hells from whence they had come. "POTTER!" he roared, bringing his wand to bear, ready to kill the boy in an instant for the impudence that the child had to not only destroy part on his ties to the living world, but to have the audacity to know what it meant. Curse Dumbledore for finding out so easily, and curse him again for Potter being the hand that the old man used to smite Voldemort.

The boy turned, and Lord Voldemort stepped forward, ready to strike the child down, but froze when he saw the red gleam overtake the emerald eyes of Lily Potter, and knew for certain that he dealt with no child, but an equal, versed in the darkest of arts.

"So that is what happened, in truth then…" he muttered, comprising a reality for how this could be. The boy had to have become corrupted from that day, infused by the dark magic that the Dark Lord himself was going to use to make his final Horcrux, safeguarding his life for all time with another piece hidden away, and the boy who was prophesized to be his downfall dead at his feet.

Knowing he had to strike more than ever, his wand plunged forward in a flash, "AVADA KEDAVERA!" he bellowed.

But the infuriating boy threw up a hand, as though striking away the deadly curse, and a wall of frost and ice appeared, taking the hit and shattering in smoking vapor, which distorted the Dark Lord's sight momentarily, just enough for the boy to rise and face him.

Only then, did Voldemort take the time to actually observe the child before him, noting that he wore no school robes, but an archaic style that greatly enhanced the boy's magic and abilities, enchanted and purposed to make him more intimidating. A flare of interest ran through Voldemort, but it was passing only, he had to kill the boy, as only he would live through this night.

He struck again, but the deadly green jet was halted by a blast of shadows from the boy's outstretched hand, the child having said no spell nor drawn magic from his own core. Voldemort cried out in shock and alarm, "What is this magic?" Then he remembered in full what occurred that night so long ago, and began to feel a sensation similar to fear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor had suspected that the creature that Albus was wasting his time speaking to wasn't going to tell them anything, and he was more than ready when the old man was foolish enough to try and stop the creature as it turned to walk away from them.

With a roar, the massive troll-like monster swung its arms, trying to knock the old Headmaster away, but with a quick charm, Alastor yanked Albus out of the way, following up with a blast of arcane fire, which the beast blocked with its dark magic.

"My Lord may have wanted to be the one to defeat you," one of the heads of the disorienting creature said, cracking the knuckles on its hulking hands, "but we'll be happy to soften you up for him until he returns…" the other added ominously.

Snape darted forward as the massive monster raised both hands, summoning Felfire from the sky. A hail of frost shot upward, countering and impeding the cursed flames from reaching them, even as Albus conjured a powerful Arcane shield around the three combatants.

Despite its size and considerable grasp of Fel magic, the creature was still outnumbered one… or two if you counted heads, to three. It fought viciously, employing powerful physical strikes that they had to dodge quickly, as well as dark magic that tore at the grounds around them.

They were unfortunately far enough away from the pitch that there was no chance of others coming to their aide, but at the same time none would come for the creature either. Slowly, they started to gain ground, using their ability to be in multiple locations to herd the creature back, away from its intended destination of the pitch, where no doubt the rest of its monstrous fellows awaited its arrival to join their master.

That was, until it started to grow wise of their strategy, and varied its attacks, lashing out in sudden bursts of physical strength, once catching Severus hard in the midsection with its trashcan sized hands, sending the thin man flying backward.

Alastor took the opportunity that move presented to lash out with flames, a powerful molten boulder forming before him and flying forward into the exposed back of the robed creature. The beast lurched forward, missing in its attempt to finish off the brooding Potions Master, but their formation had broken, and the creature leapt into the gap and made a run for the stadium.

"We mustn't let it get away," Alastor cried, but Albus hung back, stopping his friend as he started to pursue.

"No," he reprimanded Alastor, "let the creature go, I placed a tracking charm upon it, so now we can know exactly where he goes to meet Nobu'tan, and ambush them when they try to achieve their plans."

Severus got to his feet, wobbling slightly from the force he was struck with. "I hope your plan for that time is better than it was now…" he said unsteadily.

"Well, we'd have to see, but I think I have reinforcements that are more than willing to try and apprehend Nobu'tan for their own reasons." Albus stated, giving Alastor a pointed look.

The ex-Auror knew what the man was asking of him, and nodded, limping back to the castle as quickly as he could, in order to Floo to the Ministry and be in position to relay instruction to Amelia on the location of the Minister's prized prisoner. He didn't agree with throwing away all the manpower of the Auror offices in this mad attempt, but the Order of the Phoenix was not trained enough to deal with such a threat, and the combat awareness of the Aurors would at least keep them alive in order to thoroughly distract the boy forces, whatever that consisted of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius kept up a steady stream of spells, battling the four loyal Death Eaters that remained with their former lord, even as the Dark Lord fought against Nobu'tan himself in the graveyard. He had had a surge of fear and worry when the call came, but he had to at least make the appearance that he was loyal, to forestall any more attempts by another party to thwart the plans of the Black Harvest, and had counseled the others to go as well.

And lucky thing he had done so, as once he had laid his eyes on Nobu'tan bound to the tombstone, he had known that the battle was going to be blood and their new lord would need all the allies he could get.

Turning on Voldemort was a thrill that Lucius wished he could experience again and again for the rest of his life, like throwing off shackles that had pained him for so many years. even as the Carrows, Crouch Jr. and Pettigrew screamed their curses, Lucius and the other warlocks held fast, trusting their demonic minions to absorb any damage that might come upon them, and allowing their connection to the Fel speak for them of their allegiance.

The Dark Lord's voice pierced over the sounds of the pitched battle, attempting to taunt the leader of the Black Harvest, clinging to his supposed superiority over the boy. "I offered you the chance to join me once before, boy," he hissed, sending cold shivers down the Malfoy lord's back. "Will you not reconsider, before I destroy you utterly…?"

"I said it once before, you doddering old fool," Nobu'tan replied scathingly, "that you are in no such position to threaten or bargain with me, and that fact remains. I am beyond your power, and my masters will tolerate no false allegiances."

The Dark Lord, no… Lucius corrected himself as his own fear faded, Voldemort shuddered back as Nobu'tan threw his hands to the heavens, causing Fel meteorites to crash to the grassy ground, rising up as three Infernals to fight for him.

A sharp cutting curse flew past his face, and Lucius was forced to turn back to Barty Crouch Jr. whom he and his Voidwalker Grak'dok were locked in heated combat with. The madman, so loyal to Voldemort, was flinging spells about at random, trying to get anything past the shadowed void creature and strike at Lucius directly, but Grak'dok would have none of it, dodging into the path of spells and charging ahead to disrupt the man's footwork.

Lucius presumed that the man had faked his own death in Azkaban, possibly replacing the likeness of his own father through extended use of Polyjuice, but otherwise he cared not, as the man was deranged and like unto a rabid animal, ripe to be put down.

Three more curses, of corruption, agony, and insatiability leapt from his fingers, affixing themselves to the man, who howled with rage as they began to eat his flesh and magic alive. The others weren't having as much luck with their combatants, as Lucius spared a glance around at his allies.

Crabbe had fallen, but whether injured, stunned or dead Lucius did not know, and Goyle was screaming in rage, bolts of destructive magic raining from his fingers with abandon upon Pettigrew, while Nott and Macnair unleashed hordes of demons on the Carrow siblings, completely distracting the pair of them while Yaxley and Dolohov tried in vain to get closer and aide Lord Nobu'tan against Voldemort. Every time they tried however, the Dark Lord would fire spells at them, forcing them back as he squared off against the torrent of spells from the most accomplished warlock on the planet.

"You are mine Harry Potter!" Voldemort shrieked, as a spell caught the boy's shoulder, producing the audible snap of bone, "and both you and your allies will die here, today!"

The ground shook in response, and Lucius turned from the now fallen Crouch, as the man gurgled and twitched on the ground from the curses affixed to him, to watched as Yaxley shifted into a form more closer to the demonic Nathrezim. The hulking purple shape leapt through the air, colliding bodily with Voldemort, claw slashing at his robes and the entire creature seething with Felflames is it immolated itself through sheer force of will.

The Infernals piled upon the demon and Dark Lord, and for a brief moment Lucius hoped that it was all over, that they were victorious, but with a roar of rage Voldemort arose, shattering the Infernals with spells and throwing Yaxley from him, where the man in demon form shattered a trio of tombstones and lay still.

It was short lived, as by the time the Dark Lord turned to reface Nobu'tan, the boy already was working his own magic, long tendrils of purple soul magic latching onto Voldemort, drawing on him as he attempted to cast, but from his own experience with the delicate arts of the soul, Lucius knew that it would be impossible.

Nobu'tan had won, and Voldemort collapsed to his knees, his very life force and magic being ripped from his body in torrents, funneling into a crystal shard in Nobu'tan's hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm ran for all his two heads were worth. He knew that the location of the other guardians of Nobu'tan were near, and if he could reach them, they would be able to send for a summoning rather quickly, and there was no force that these wizards could throw at them quick enough to defeat them.

Teg glanced back, noting that the three mages were not pursuing him, and knew that something had to be up. it was a deep suspicion that he had gained from their time near the castle of his Lord's most irritating enemy. Nobu'tan didn't trust this Dumbledore for anything, and Teg'Ramm wouldn't either. And that was the reason he had chosen to fight rather than divulge that even they were unaware of where their master had disappeared to.

Unlike these wizards and their mage manipulators, however, the servants of the Fel trusted that Nobu'tan would pull through whatever what thrown at him on this world, although personally Teg'Ramm knew that he had made an oath to protect the boy, and he was wroth to not be able to fulfill that pledge.

Still, he arrived among the Fel centaur and the other ogre magi, they were already sending out eyes to relay messages to their other forces, and withdraw to the preparation grounds for the assault on the stone circle that these wizards had created so long ago. The ritual would begin as soon as their Lord appeared from wherever he had gone.

Edgran cantered forward as Teg'Ramm arrived. "The others of the Black Harvest have gone to assist Lord Nobu'tan," he informed the ogre mage, and Ramm released a small breath that Teg was unaware that his other head had been holding. Teg nodded, gesturing for them to continue preparing for a summoning ritual to take them all, and turned to keep watch for advancing enemy forces, just in case the wizards decided to grow hostile to them.

It wouldn't surprise the ogre mage that these horrid human spell casters would prove to be just a treacherous as his old clan leaders, who were know for such things. Somehow however, he felt that these wizards would prove to exceed the ruthlessness and treachery than even the old chieftain that had sent Teg'Ramm away to training with Nobu'tan in the first place, hoping that it would get the then smaller ogre killed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan refused to cease draining the dark lord of the last of his life force until his new body was a withered husk, and it fell forward into the dirt, utterly empty and useless once more. The crystal shard in his hand pulsed with power, completed at last and radiating much dark magic. So much even that Nobu'tan wasn't completely sure how best it could be used to his benefit.

Glancing at the withered corpse, he suddenly had a spur of the moment idea that was only too sadistic to not be done. Pulling out his wand, Nobu'tan casually waved it, summon a branch from a nearby yew tree and transfiguring it into a well crafted and ornate truncheon. To the head of this small rod he affixed the soul crystal of Lord Voldemort, and swung it around once, testing the weight and drawing the freshly deceased spirits of the other four Death Eaters into it, empowering the creation and making it rich in necromantic energies, just as he had had described to him so long ago by Teron Gorefiend about the creation of the Death Knights…

Placing the thusly empowered item upon the deprecated corpse of his fallen rival, Nobu'tan started the quick ritual that he had learned at Gul'dan's knee, which would revive a fallen Death Knight and bind their spirit back to their weapon, or in this case bind the imprisoned spirit back to its body.

The other warlocks stepped back as Lord Voldemort's eyes opened once more, glowing with Fel power and warped with the strangeness that occurred with the dead rising once more. The man rose slowly, glaring angrily at Nobu'tan, and plucked the fallen wand from the ground, pointing it at him in clear attempt to kill Nobu'tan once more, but the warlock didn't react.

The Death Knights were bound, body and soul to the warlock that raised them, and as Teron could not betray Gul'dan, now Voldemort could not harm Nobu'tan. "What is this…" the man wheezed, air whistling as it entered and left the lungs that were now only needed for the function of speech.

"You live once more, Lord Voldemort, but not as you once were," Nobu'tan declared, smirking widely at the foolish man, "I have returned you to the land of the living, my Death Knight…"

Voldemort screamed, spewing incantations at Nobu'tan, but the man's magic no longer functioned through the routes that it had in life, and therefore the wand was nothing more than dead wood in his hands.

"I think you might have more success if you take up your new implement," Nobu'tan suggested crassly, gesturing at the scepter at the corpse's feet. Voldemort turned awkwardly, inclining his head without moving his neck to look down at the glowing gem of his soul, and the skin around the eyes widened, cracking slightly under the strain the dead and dying tissue was put under.

"Now that you seem to understand part of the plight, know that you are now bound to me, as one of the greatest of my servants, and you will have power once we are finished with this world…" Nobu'tan stated, gesturing at Lucius to prepare them a portal to the next stage of their operation.

This detour at last completed, with a significant boon to his forces, Nobu'tan felt at last prepared to make his move on the Wizarding world, and draw out Dumbledore to take the last artifact from him. "Come, Lord Voldemort, think of it this way, you are now at last achieving all that you desired…" Nobu'tan commented, walking past the walking corpse, "you are immortal now, and will shortly have the opportunity to slay Albus Dumbledore for me, once you learn to harness your new powers. But for now, come and see where the world has moved on in your absence…"

And without waiting for the undead human's reaction, Nobu'tan marched through the portal to the small cave near Stonehenge where his forces awaited his arrival.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus still felt somewhat unsteady on his feet after being thrown by the massive creature, and he could see that despite the Headmaster's lack of care toward his own injuries that there were several mild burns and blood trickling from various cuts that the man had sustained in their brief battle with the thing.

Most of the other schools, and their students were in an uproar, and in the midst of the chaos most of Slytherin house had simply vanished from the school, likely joining their new master and his pets as they grouped together for whatever evil they intended.

"We've been blind…" Albus said to Severus, dashing about his office, oblivious to the presence of the other Heads of House and their worries about the events at the school, especially in regards to the Tournament and their students.

Aiming his wand at the fireplace, Albus hit it with a spell, the flames roaring to life and signaling the last mage on their side to join them, which had Severus widening his eyes. "Albus, we have extra eyes in here," he said, trying to catch the old man as he paced the office wildly, even agitating his phoenix.

"There's no time!" Albus yelled back at him, surprising the other three professors with the intensity of the man. "Nobu'tan is planning to open his portal now, he had been preparing this entire time, it's clear to me now that he had taken measures to undermine our ability to keep him out of the loop."

The flames roared to life and Black stepped through, "You summoned me Albus?" he asked, casually glancing around at the extra faces, before breaking into a wide smile at seeing his old professors. They on the other hand, became ghastly white, and Minerva even raised her wand at the man before turning to Albus, "You've been working with Black Albus? Are you mad?"

Black laughed, "Mad, well yes the Headmaster might be at times Minerva, but in this case no, no we are not… I take it you plan to show them what we are up against…" the man asked Albus, still unaware of the situation.

"This evening the Tournament ended Black, and Nobu'tan escaped from our and the Ministry's grasp, along with all his followers and most of Slytherin House." Severus said hastily, still trying to stop Albus and get the man to explain in a straight answer.

Black froze, color draining a bit from his face, before he calmly took a seat and looked up at them all, "What's the next move then?" he said, portraying a sense of rationality and seriousness that even Severus paused to see.

Albus at that time had managed to collect himself somewhat, "Minerva, you and the other three Heads of House need to hold down Hogwarts while we deal with something that could eclipse the darkness of Lord Voldemort," collective gasps were sounded from the other three, and Severus felt the Dark Mark on his arm twinge at the sound of its creator.

"Something… worse?" Filius asked, stepped closer, "what could possibly be worse than that madman's reign of destruction."

"Oh I don't know… demons raining from the sky, a portal opening that could burn the entire world with a limitless army hell bent on consuming the magic right from the planet beneath our feet…" Black said idly, eyeing his own fingers as though thinking of getting them polished. Severus could tell that his old rival was quite enjoying this…

"That is enough Sirius," Albus said flatly, "We will take care of it, along with Alastor and the Ministry, you need to protect Hogwarts, because if we fail this is where we must flee to, it has the strongest wards in all of Britain, and the Legion will come here to break our spirits if they succeed in escaping the trap I plan for them."

"I… as you wish Albus…" Minerva said, still unsure what was going on, but submitting to the Headmaster's wishes, "what about the foreign students and their teachers? The parents that came to watch the Tournament?"

"They can either leave for their homes, or stay in the castle, but it is not safe for them to be out, not even on the grounds." Albus said, looking up and out of a window when his wand started to glow on his desk, "they've moved, it's time…" he said more to Severus and Black, "Severus, a message to Alastor to notify the Ministry, they're at Stonehenge," the man added, his eyes glowing briefly with the calm purple of the Arcane.

Severus quickly conjured a message Patronus, sending the doe of Lily out the window like lightning, before standing himself, "Do we proceed them to delay the enemy?" he asked.

Black was on his feet in a heartbeat, "I agree with Severus, we need to hit them now so they have no chance to regroup before Alastor arrives with the might of the Ministry."

Albus looked pensive, looking at his own wand, which Severus noted looked awfully old as it lay there on the desk, far older than Albus himself. "I feel that we have little choice, but I worry that it may be a trap for us regardless…" he said.

"Either the trap springs for us, or it springs on the Ministry, and we can hold of the demons and warlocks much better than they," Severus argued, the presence of the other Heads of House completely forgotten.

Albus sighed tiredly, "You are right, of course," he took up his wand, the end crackling with power unrestrained as he rose to his feet, "So it comes to it at last," he muttered, facing the other three professors, "I go to war, and I do not know if I will return… If I fall in battle, Severus will be Headmaster in my stead… should he too perish with me, I will select Minerva as our replacement, with Filius as her deputy…"

"Albus!" the woman said, shocked at the pronouncement, but the aged man overruled her as he gestured at a small silver instrument on his desk. "There is no time for arguments, Minerva, we leave now." The item glowed blue as the _Portus_ activated, taking all three mages into its embrace, and to battle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort couldn't believe how quickly what ought to have been his victorious return had backfired upon him. Even as he moved, jarringly, through the camp of his nemesis Potter, one hand clutching the small rod that contained the totality of his soul he couldn't understand where he had gone wrong.

How Potter, of all people on the planet, had found each and every section of his soul, a process that the Dark Lord had taken many years to prepare for the likelihood of someone of the caliber of Dumbledore to try and seek out, and yet he was bested by happenstance and betrayal.

And it all cumulated in this, his own self bound body and soul to obey the child that had destroyed him. It was mockery at the lowest level, and yet there was nothing the former supreme power in the world could do to stop it.

Potter hadn't so much as spared him a glance since they moved through the portal to a small cave overlooking the muggle encampments surrounding the standing stones of the ancients. It was a place that at one point Voldemort had studied, but he had quickly passed it over for better pastures of magical learning when he discovered that all the true history surrounding it had been all but forgotten.

But now he wondered what it was that the boy sought to use the stone circle for…walking through the assorted former Death Eaters, Hogwarts students, centaur and trolls he quickly located the boy, standing around a large map of the area with Lucius, and the Malfoy Lord's son.

The boy at least had the respect to look fearful as the Dark Lord approached, even if his form resembled an inferi more than what he had originally desired his reformed body to appear like. "Oh good, you finally chose to participate rather than sulk about your defeat…" Potter said scathingly, stepping aside so that Voldemort could see the plans that they were making.

"What is all this about?" he questioned, having learned early on that he was now incapable of intentionally harming the boy, and while he hated it, not knowing what was going on galled him all the more.

"We are taking Stonehenge back from the muggles, my Lo… I mean Voldemort…" Lucius said, catching himself from falling into old practices.

"And why is that? the stones have no magic left to give our world, dried up in ages long past…" Voldemort countered, itching to use his wand on the blond fool.

"Maybe for what you considered proper magic," Potter countered, smirking, "but for the Fel powers that we now possess, the ley lines under it will do more than enough for our designs. We simply have to wait for that fool Albus Dumbledore to bring the last piece of the key…"

"Dumbledore?" Voldemort questioned, narrowing his dried and decaying eyes, "you would be a fool to fight against him to easily boy, even I refused to fight that man in fair combat, at least till I had rendered you inaccessible…"

"And how well did that work out?" Potter countered, sounding so pleased with himself. "But no, nor would I easily fight one on one versus that man, especially now that he is a fully realized Mage on top of his already impressive wizardry. All the more reason that I now need to train you in your new necromantic powers, as I need you to aid me in defeating him. I need his wand, and then we can secure ourselves within the circle and commence the ritual that will sunder this world, opening up the pathway for the Legion to break through at last."

Voldemort wasn't sure about this plan, nor the fact that he was being forced to face off against Dumbledore in a time and fashion that he was not comfortable with, but the boy was already moving on, setting out his forces to take the circle and entrench themselves deeply into the surrounding grasslands, even as those who used to be his faithful followers could pile together into the center of the circle, and begin tracing runes and preparing for some powerful ritual.

From what was described, Voldemort could guess that they were planning to summon something large and powerful from another world or dimension, but barely anyone paid much attention to him as it was, and he had little choice but to follow the boy around in pained silence until Potter finally turned to him.

"So, as you may guess your magic no longer comes from within you, as you are dead." He said bluntly. Even though Voldemort had accepted this, it was still a great blow to his pride to hear it said aloud.

"You need to learn, and quickly, to draw the power of magic from the life and death of those around you, as well as the ley lines of magic that run under our feet. This is a better place and most to do so, as the lines here are some of the strongest in the region, next to Hogwarts itself…"

Voldemort understood some of the concepts that the boy mentioned, and for the first time in many years, and while he was unused to such magic, made the attempt to adapt to this form.


	52. C51: The Black Gate

**Well, you've waited, you've wondered, and quite a number have speculated, but the hour of darkness has arrived. Sit back and enjoy as the culmination of act one in The Stornreavers strikes its climax! as ever, please enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty One**

 **The Black Gate**

Albus landed heavily from where his rushed portkey had deposited himself, Sirius and Severus, and he was instantly on alert, the rain fall of the area hampering their line of vision and hearing, but the Arcane was humming around them in torrents. Something heavily magical was afoot, and Albus knew that they had found the right place.

He still did not expect for them to be attacked so soon upon their arrival however, and the magical sphere of flame caught him off guard, exploding between the three of them and sending all the mages to the ground hard.

Scrambling for his wand, Albus was horrified to spot it soaring through the air, straight to the hand of one clad in a black cloak. "I must thank you for delivering the last artifact that I required, Albus," Nobu'tan said, amusement heavy in his voice, "Who'd have thought that manipulating you would prove easier than anyone could realize."

Albus was still not defenseless however, and his original wand slapped into his hand, its power less than that of the Elder wand rightfully claimed in the hand of Nobu'tan, but he had won it once before in a duel, and could do so again.

A blast of Arcane magic in Nobu'tan's direction, and Albus leapt to his feet. The boy had dodged back, red eyes gleaming under his hood, as lightning flashed overhead, revealing the landscape all around them.

Albus stood rooted to the spot, horrified at what was momentarily revealed. Hundreds if not thousands of creatures, all varying in shape and size, ready to fight and die for their master, and beyond that toward the stone circle there were cages of rough wood filled with muggles, all screaming for help and to be released, watched over by more warlocks.

"How long have you prepared for this moment?" Albus found himself asking, even as he tightened his grip on his wand.

"The moment I arrived…" Nobu'tan admitted, still backing away with the Elder Wand clutched tightly in his grip, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a demonic horde to summon…"

Rage exploded outward from Albus, and he fired several spells at the retreating form, but something else imposed itself between the two, parrying spells with a large scepter with a gleaming red gem set in it.

"Albus Dumbledore…. We meet again…" the creature hissed, and Albus knew the voice from anywhere. Tom Riddle, self styled as the Dark Lord Voldemort, was here defending Nobu'tan from him. Even more questions than answers at this point, but there was nothing that he could do to get answers now, as Voldemort immediately went upon the attack, the jeweled scepter slinging spells of necromantic energy at Albus, who had to defend with both his wizardry and skill in the arcane.

Around him, Sirius and Severus were too hampered by additional foes that started upon their position. At least Albus was safe in the thought that the Ministry was arriving soon, even though they were now racing against time before Nobu'tan succeed in contacting the Legion and bringing them through to this world.

So he fought like a madman, unleashing all the magical energy that he had kept tightly controlled since those days when he was friends with Gellert, that he had locked away after that titanic duel, never to use unless the need was great enough. If ever there was a time for his full power in the magical arts, it was now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan did not flee from Dumbledore' presence, he convinced himself. There were matters that he alone could attend to, and he knew that against all the forces that were coming, they would inevitably fail unless they called upon the Legion to fulfill their bargain.

Running hard, Nobu'tan carrying the precious wand to the stone circle, where his minions had been carefully carving the runes that they would need into the rock faces, and arranging their prisoners in the gaps for easy access.

Portal magic, he had learned from the Grimoire of Merlin, delved heavily into the Fel, and required much life essence to generate. To cut across the cosmos and breach the homeworld of the Legion therefore, he would need much. The ogres were there to move cages as more of their newfound muggle prisoners died and were rendered useless, which the Fel Veela had spent these months capturing for him.

Lucius was waiting for him within the runes upon the ground in the midst of the circle, carrying the other artifacts. "We are assembled," he said, the formality in his voice rather odd for this moment, but Nobu'tan had noticed the strange behavior of magic when a ritual of some magnitude was about to commence.

Spreading his arms, one hand still white knuckling over the wand, just in case Dumbledore tried to summon it back, Nobu'tan spoke softly, "clothe me in the artifacts…"

Lucius obeyed, placing the Diadem upon Nobu'tan's head, the Torque around his neck, and the Grimoire in his opposite hand. Each were a powerful item in their own right, but together, as magic welled up inside him, Nobu'tan felt the power to rend the land beneath him, conquer mountains and subject the entire world to his will.

It was humbling to think that such energy was needed to free the Legion to this world, but he refocused himself, understanding of what he must do filtering in from the Diadem on his brow.

Standing in the center, he raised the wand and the ancient Tome, chanting in the tongue of the Demonic Legion, beginning to charge the runes carved all around him.

In time, the other warlocks joined him, adding their strength to his own. Teg'Ramm and the ogre magi, as well as those warlocks of the Fel Centaur, and a few Fel Veela that were especially gifted were among them, totaling eighteen casters at once, three sets of six.

Slowly, over their heads and over the stone pillars around them, clouds began to gather, thunderous and angry, and Nobu'tan was directed to harvest the life energy of one of the cages of prisoners, which he did so, ignoring the screams of the dying victims as he channeled their very life force into the cloud overhead, the stones creating a ward of permanency to the portal as he went.

The battle cries away from the stones told him that their enemies had come upon them in the form of the Ministry, but he was confident that they would be too late to stop their progress now, even as the next set of prisoners were required to fuel the Fel.

The incantation was supplied directly to his mind, whether from the Legion or the Diadem Nobu'tan was not certain, but among the information was the sacred name of the Legion command world: Argus.

Lightning flashed from the cloud overhead with each new supply of Fel magic, striking the stones and becoming empowered by the runes inscribed thereupon, and Nobu'tan could feel a powerful force building just out of reach, stretching out to meet them in the great dark beyond.

The Legion was coming for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor appeared in a whirl of blue, alongside half a dozen of the first wave of Aurors and Unspeakables. Amelia had been more than eager to make a move, and when she heard that Albus Dumbledore himself had gone to battle against a force marshalling around Stonehenge, she had leapt at the chance. Now they had nearly the entire force of wizarding police and Unspeakables marshalling as he went as vanguard, after sending out the word for the Order of the Phoenix to assemble and aid them in defending their world.

Most of these that came with him had faced demons and their warlock masters before, and therefore they were not afraid when they saw the multitude laid out before them, and the plumes of fire and frost that erupted from the middle where Albus and the other Mages were battling for their lives.

Sending off a fireball at the nearest foe, a demon with a squashed face, Alastor signaled for them to attack, and clear the way for their reinforcements to arrive. The spells rained down from their position in torrents, and the Aurors, having been given the green light for heavy handed spells, although nothing dark or Unforgivable, they still packed quite a better punch against their new enemies more than before.

The Unspeakables on the other hand, had no restraint from their department, and had brought all manner of devices and trinkets to unleash upon the demons and their Fel-touched allies. Still, Alastor had his focus on the frightening cloud of slowly growing green energy that hovered over the stone circle, where he could feel a rising tide of Fel energy building among all the madness of the battle as it unfolded around them.

The warlocks were already working on their ritual to summon the Legion, and they were racing against the clock to stop them. Blasting another demon with a jab of his wand and a muttered curse, Alastor finally broke through the lines of vile creatures that separated the Ministry from Dumbledore, Snape and Black, and while the Aurors were probably confused at the appearance of a notorious convict, they didn't have opportunity or desire to try and stop someone helping them, especially with the white glow in the man's eyes as he hurled spheres of fire at the foes on all sides.

But it was the enemy that Albus was dueling that caught Alastor's eye, shrouded in what seemed almost a deathly visage, the red glowing corpse moved almost unstably, the rod of power in its hand sending out jets of sickly red and black magic at the Headmaster, even as Albus used all his skill and power in both wizardry and the Arcane to duel him and any demon that got in their way.

"You were a fool to move against him Tom," Albus cried over the din of war, "Do you even know what Nobu'tan plans to unleash upon this world, a world that even you care for, in your own way."

Alastor realized with a start that this creature, the undead monster had to then be Voldemort, reborn from his own defeat nearly thirteen years ago, and he fought harder to reach Albus' side and defend his longtime friend from their mutual foe.

"Not that I have much of a choice, but that no longer matters to me," Voldemort hissed in response, conjuring a vile wind filled with blades and life stealing essence, which Albus threw a powerful purple shield of Arcane around them to capture until it vanished away.

"You will all die, when my new master unleashes his allies from across the cosmos…" Voldemort said, almost spitting the words out as he advanced. Alastor joined Albus at last, kicking the last creature that attempted to block his passage through the melee, even as the Aurors and Unspeakables gained their first wave of reinforcements, led by Scrimgeour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort eyed the added nuisance of Mad-Eye Moody. He had learned to expect the unexpected from his long time as the Dark Lord of Britain, but this change at the hands of Potter had brought with it a slew of opportunities and eye opening possibilities, which made the man doubt his old powers already. His new magic, reeking of death and the chill of the grave, were strong, but he was not nearly competent enough with them to effectively kill the Headmaster, and with another mage at his side, Voldemort knew that he would be defeated unless he did something rash.

To that end, he swung his scepter high, channeling his new necromantic magic as it came to rest, not upon the mages before him, but the assembling forces of the Ministry, directly at their newest leader, Scrimgeour. The blast of power as a jet of screaming death rocketed out was something of a delight to him, seeing the lion-manned man fall to the mud as the storm rolled overhead and pelted them all with rain.

Unfortunately, it had not had the effect that he desired from the pair before him, who took the opportunity to attack him two on one, and Voldemort was forced to throw up some defensive measures, a shield of blackness to catch the bolts of purple magic and the flames from Moody.

But he was slowly learning his abilities. The curse of death was still his to use, and it was a favored ally and weapon, among other newfound abilities that would wreak havoc across a battlefield scale region, but as their forces were more dominant here, they were less than effective to put to the test now.

The newly formed Death Knight therefore launched into a salvo of magic, hoping to break through his opponent's defenses and kill at least one, preferable Dumbledore but Voldemort would settle for Moody, so that he could focus all his power at the other without distraction.

Their battle however was interrupted, when with a sharp crack of lightning the portal was activated back at the standing stones, and most of the battlefield turned to watch as the shimmering green energy dominated the region between the two largest stones, opening ever wider as something massive started to make its way through.

The warlocks had backed away in respect and almost reverence, and the first thing seen was a massive hoofed foot, which shattered stone as it stepped through. The being was impossibly tall, towering over even the height of giants, with blue skin and several face tendrils that set his face off with the deadly green Fel energy in his eyes.

The massive being lifted an arm to the heavens, Fel energy crackling off of it with ease, and declared in a booming voice that shook the very ground beneath the warring factions. " **Tremble mortals and despair! Doom has come to this world!** "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm backed away with the other warlocks as the Defiler arrived. The great Eredar had announced the destruction of this world at last, and their design had been fulfilled. Even Nobu'tan looked on in awe as the demonlord waded forth through their forces, which moved away in fear and respect of their master.

The only knot of forces that stood defiantly were those of the Ministry, and the Hogwarts mages, Archimonde continued to speak, " **My coming heralds the end of your pathetic world, insects. Your meager forces shall be the first of many to be consumed by the Burning Legion!** "

To their great surprise, and even apparently Archimonde's himself, the Mages did not back down or quail in fear, but rather seemed to rally and lash out. an orb of magical fire flashed out and struck the Defiler in the body, easily doing very little to actually wound the powerful Warlock and Demon, but enough of a stance of resistance that the Lord of the Burning Legion roared in anger and rage at the defiance.

A massive Fel mace appeared in the hand of the great Eredar, and he stormed forward to do battle himself against the Mages, " **Let the echoes of doom resound across this wretched world, that all who love may hear them and despair!** "

"We must prepare the portal to allow many demons through," Nobu'tan said, returning his attention to the black gate that they had opened, "Archimonde will want to set this world to the flame as soon as he has finished with Dumbledore and his pitiful band."

Tearing his eyes from the glorious form of the demon lord, Teg'Ramm obey his master, trying to ignore the cries of anger and rage as the titanic Lord fought with the mages and their wizard allies.

Soon enough demons were slowly spewing out of the portal, ever increasing as they pulled the portal wider and made it more stable, anchoring it to the gateway of the stone circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus had never seen such a massive being in his life. Even more frightening however, was Black's audacity to throw a ball of fire at the creature as it announced its victory over them arrogantly, inciting the creature to attack them. Apparating back as the massive mace smashed into the ground where they had stood, Severus had little choice but to fight, as he knew that Albus planned to die defending their world here now.

It may be impossible for them to stop the Legion, but they would give it their all in the effort. Dashing to the side to stay out of any range of the massive demon's abilities, Severus launched as many spells as he could think of at the hulking form, quickly learning what would or wouldn't work, as the golden armor that the demon wore seemed to shield it from many lesser spells and charms.

Moody had rallied the Ministry wizards, and as one they charged in, wands and other items waving and shooting everything they could muster at the angry titan that towered over them.

There was a flash of flame, and a sharp cry light some battle anthem, as a streak of flame shot towards Albus, which Severus momentarily registered was Fawkes the Phoenix, leading the charge of the Order of the Phoenix, suddenly, Albus leapt into battle, and a silver sword was in his hands, even as the ancient wizard moved to engage the demon, seeming like a tiny toy in comparison to the hulking monstrosity that hurled terrible magic at them.

Then Severus' view was blocked as he was forced to dodge, even as the massive creature bellowed a spell, taunting them even as green Felfire poured out in all directions, " **Witness the flames that have consumed countless worlds!** "

Encasing himself within a block of ice, Severus watched in horror as the demonic fire swept over him, unable to cause him harm, but the forces of the Ministry weren't nearly as lucky, and their screams filled the sky.

" **You fall so easily…** " the great demon taunted, even as Albus finally charged, the shining sword in his hand raised to strike, and the massive creature swung the mace in its hand downward, ready to crush the aged Headmaster.

Albus dodged, revealing the agility that he still retained despite his age, and hacked several quick strokes at the blue hand grasping the weapon, causing the demon to grunt in irritation less than actual pain.

" **You are powerless to stop me!** " the demon spoke, and Severus wondered for a moment why it was stalling for so long, if it was capable of fulfilling all its threats and words. Realizing that Albus had already been cued into this notion emboldened him, and he continued to attack, summoning an elemental of water and relying as much as he dared on the arcane power of frost.

Suddenly, the demon slammed the mace into the ground, even as Albus dodged back again, but striking the much smaller wizard seemed to have not been the goal of the creature, even as tainted Fel magic flowed through the hammer into the ground itself. " **This meaningless world has already succumbed to my corruption. The land itself seethes with the mark of the legion!** " The creature announced, and as he did so, the earth rumbled, even as Fel tainted spikes ruptured from the ground all around them.

Severus felt a searing pain in his back as one erupted just behind him, knocking him forward and drenching him with blood. Their formation and flow had been throw off from that attack, and the demon leapt at the moment of weakness, the massive hammer sweeping the sword right out of Albus' grasp, even as Severus fell to his knees from the pain lancing up and down his back. He had potions for pain, and his hands groped quickly through his robes, but even as he did so his vision was growing darker.

The red colored potion he had made so long ago was in his hands, slippery from the blood loss he was experiencing. Pressing it to his lips, he prayed to whatever deity would hear him that he was right about this mixture, and drank.

The pain slowly stopped, but he was unable to prevent himself from losing consciousness regardless, the trauma overwhelming his mind. Someone skidded to a halt near him, but Severus was fading from the waking world fast and could hear who it was before the blue glow of a portkey took him, and he knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione almost screamed when the shattering force of Fel Magic ran across the surface of the world. Many of her Mages did, sensing the tremendous force that invaded their world. eyes aflame with magic, Hermione gazed to the south, unable to see beyond sight but knowing that something massive had happened, and they were in mortal danger.

"Hermione, what is it?" Hannah asked, trembling slightly for fright of whatever it was.

Soon enough however they were answered as a terrible voice ran over the entire castle, reverberating and seeming to emanate from the very ley lines beneath them, " **Tremble mortals and despair! Doom has come to this world!** "

"The creatures who took Harry have succeeded with their design, if I was to guess," Hermione said grimly. "And that is the sound of some invader from another world, which seeks to destroy our world…"

"What shall we do?" Colin Creevey said, standing swiftly and looking fierce despite his small size, the others around him nodding in agreement. They all turned to her, looking for guidance and instruction, as they had up to this point.

Hermione knew what she wanted to say, but she feared the death of them all if they chose the path of battle. Reaching out with the Arcane, she sensed that none of the adult mages were present for the chaos of the aftermath of the Tournament end, and she could only surmise that they were already moving to try and quell whatever bout of Dark Magic was threatening to envelope the world.

That they didn't consider her or her followers once again seemed to ignite a fury within Hermione that wasn't about to be easily stifled. "We fight…" she declared.

Rising to her feet, she concentrated hard upon the location of the eclipsing power of darkness, channeling the pure power of the Arcane to warp time and space to her location. Before her, and to the amazement of her fellow Mages, a rift appeared, almost as it were a window to a hideous battlefield, rain pouring down as fire and ice shot through the air at a titanic blue creature.

Around the massive figure, Hermione saw many others, wizards all, scrambling to avoid the massive attacks and deadly dark magic that the giant threw at them. Colin, bless his small heart, was the first to charge through with a yell of rage, which was the moment that all of her assembled mages, of many different degrees of strength and power, to charge as one through the gateway to battle. Hermione followed quickly, making sure that all got through the portal before it closed behind her.

The giant had just spoken as she arrived, its words shaking the ground beneath them with its power, " **I grow tired of this pointless game. You face the immortal Legion, scourge of a thousand worlds.** "

The figure gestured at a massive gateway in the center of what Hermione realized was Stonehenge, where other figures were casting more Fel magic to widen and stabilize what seemed to be a massive gateway. Figures were already starting to emerge from the portal, all hideous in their appearance and tainted with the deadly Fel magic.

"We have no time to wait, attack!" Hermione yelled, and her mages surged forward, slinging their spells at those guards that formed a wide circle around the cluster of wizards that faced the massive blue demon.

Caught off guard, the Fel touched beings fell away, clearing a path through for her group to reinforce the Ministry wizards, easily recognizable by their red, blue, and grey cloaks, even if they were caked in blood and mud from the ground around them.

Headmaster Dumbledore was before the massive creature, having fallen down from a massive blow from the mace-like scepter in the creature's hand.

Hermione didn't have time to think through her actions, but attacked immediately, throwing missiles of arcane power at the titan, backed up by fire and frost from her friends and assistants. The demon was caught by surprise, if not injured by their power, and fell back a step, allowing the Professor to rise to his feet and fall back.

" **Your foolish resolve will break.** " The demon intoned, thrusting a hand toward Hermione and her forces, and they split quickly to dodge the spell that erupted in the middle of them, trying to bind several of them with spectral chains and drag them back to the location the spell originated from.

Even still, some of the Ministry wizards, seeing children coming to their aid, had charged in to get them away, and were caught by the backlash of magic, falling to the ground withered and exhausted of their life and magic. " **Pathetic…** " the demon taunted as he watched them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan gazed on in awe as Lord Archimonde waged his battle against the Mages and Wizards that had come to stop the Burning Legion's glorious arrival. He could tell that the Archdemon was merely delaying for the time that the Dark Gate was finished, and that the full might of his armies could be unleashed.

Otherwise, the fools would have been crushed instantly. Soon enough the energy in the air snapped into place at last, and the portal neared completion, permanent upon this world and marking it a dominion of the Legion forever.

Archimonde knew this, and took the opportunity to taunt the mortals that challenged him, " **Your foolish crusade ends here, mortals. The legion comes and with it this world breathes its dying breath! Look upon the endless forces of the Burning Legion and know the folly of your resistance.** "

And as he spoke the words of command, the demons pouring from Argus intensified an hundred fold, even as the portal flashed its completion, and the denizens of the dark world spilled forth to fight the enemies of their master. The warlocks stepped aside, watching in a mixture of horror and amusement as the armies of the Legion spilled over the battlefield, Felhunters and other hounds charging for the wizards while great Fel Lords and Doomguards charged for the mages, who could do little but watch in horror as their doom approached.

" **Your fate is sealed!** " Archimonde said at last, stepping back and letting his minions fight the battle that was indeed beneath him to participate personally to the end.

Rather, the Demonlord turned and approached Nobu'tan, who bowed respectfully to his master's master, even if he had his reservations of their true desires for him.

" **You have done well, little Warlock,** " the Lord of the Legion stated, looking down at him with his Fel touched eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Archimonde," Nobu'tan replied, hoping that he would not have need to mention the reward promised him, as that would lessen the likelihood of him receiving it. The Eredar seemed to be able to sense his thoughts and chuckled appreciatively, the ground rumbling even with the slight noise.

" **I suppose you are ever eager to move on newer worlds and leave this miserable dust ball before we finish our work… I suppose I can grant you that reprieve for your service to us, until the way is opened for us to send you to our glorious prize.** " He stated, gesturing at the Black Gate.

Nobu'tan was surprised, thinking that they would send him and his directly to Azeroth, but a stay on the prime world of Argus beforehand was not a reward to balk at, and humble he accepted, signaling for his minions to prepare all their things and summon the last fringes of their forces away from the battle.

They were to depart as soon as the tide of demons slowed, which would be once Archimonde decided that the initial resistance was crushed utterly. In the meantime, Nobu'tan opened a portal to the subterranean kingdom of Gringotts, sending the predetermined signal for the Goblins to prepare themselves. It could take days or longer before the Demonlord was satisfied that they had no more resistance on this world, or else open other portals that would permit them access to the Black Gate without hindrance by the flow of demons washing over their world.

Lucius and Draco, along with the rest of the Order of the Black Harvest shared looks of unsettled fear on their faces, even through their Pureblood masks, at the proximity of the Demonlord of the Legion, but the mighty Archimonde paid them no mind, focusing his attention back on the pitiful resistance before their gate, which was somehow holding their own against an endless tide of minions and underlings.

"We will leave this place the moment we are ready and the Portal is clear," Nobu'tan informed them, knowing that they would have to make certain that they took the soonest advantage to capitalize on their reward. The Legion was powerful, but they still could not be trusted.

Nobu'tan was distracted when a familiar winged demon approached him from the portal, freshly appearing upon their world. "Mephistroth, welcome to our world properly for the first time," Nobu'tan said as he faced the Nathrezim.

"Young Nobu'tan, our mutual master Kil'jaeden is very pleased with your success in bringing our strength to this world at last." The Dreadlord replied, wings twitching slightly as he oriented himself to the world's gravity. "I know what Lord Archimonde has promised you, but you fall under the instruction of Kil'jaeden, and he will deal with how swiftly you are rewarded."

Nobu'tan feared for a moment that the Legion was about to betray them, but the vampiric demon held up a claw to stop him, "Clam yourself, we will hold true to our bargain, but your time spent on Argus will be short, as we already have our forces both on our worlds and upon Azeroth itself working to find a limited pathway that would allow your mortal forces through, even if we cannot utilize them to enter the world ourselves."

It was actual good news, and Nobu'tan nodded, relaxing from the shock that he had felt previously. "However," the Dreadlord announced and Nobu'tan tensed again, "We already have your orders for when you arrive in the world of Azeroth…"

Nobu'tan wasn't sure if he was going to like these instructions, but had little choice but to listen if he wanted to see the green of his homeland once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus heaved the sword of Gryffindor once more, having quickly recovered the blade before the unending ranks of demons fell upon them, and cut the goblin steel along the unprotected belly of yet another foe, the creature slumping to the ground dead.

All around him, Mages and Wizards continued to fight desperately, but their numbers were waning already. Granger and her resources had been a needed asset, arriving at the right moment, and Albus knew he was wrong to ever try to shield these specific young ones from this terror, or the world as a whole for that matter.

They had to get away and fortify their defenses, as he was already certain that victory here was lost to them, but not all had Portkeys to escape, and portals took time that they did not have with the unending forces pitted against them.

Then there was the fear Albus had burning in the back of his mind, which capitulated even as he spotted the blue titan wading back toward the front. " **I am the defiler! Lord of the Burning Legion!** " he announced, the arrogance radiating off of his form like heat from a star," **This world will feel my wrath and burn!** "

Fawkes was there, fighting alongside him, but even with the Phoenix aiding them, they couldn't get everyone away in time before they were overwhelmed. There was simply nothing he could do, and the weight of failure seemed to press upon him heavily.

Almost as though sensing his despiar, the Demon chuckled as he approached, " **You have failed this world! The Legion cannot be stopped!** " he stated flatly, raising the hammer in his hand once more.

Albus was too tired to dodge, and he watched as time seemed to slow infinitely as the hammer descended upon him. Utterly defeated, he started to close his eyes in acceptance of his fate.

" _It is not time for you to fall, young Mortal_ ," a voice sang within his mind, and Albus' eye snapped open, unable to see where such a melodic and pure voice came from.

" _You seek to renew your people, and protect them from the corruption of the Legion, do you not_?" the voice asked. Albus did not hesitate to answer in the affirmative. Even now, at the very end, he would do anything to preserve Wizard and Muggle alike, this world was united in their desperation against the power of the Legion.

" _Then accept this gift, and preserve then through the power of the Light_!" the voice sang our, changing in power to that of a battle anthem, and pure magical power flowed into Albus' form, quite unlike anything he had experienced before.

Without purely thinking, a hand raised to the heavens, as though to ward off the blow of the demon lord's hammer, and a dome of pure Light erupted over him, catching and deflecting the hammer blow, and sending the titanic form reeling back in surprise. The minions that were rushing him at the same time, burned to ashes as they struck the golden dome, although his allies were free to pass as they chose.

Quickly, the surrounding mages and wizards spotted the safety of the shield and fell behind it, while Moody and Miss Granger took charge, ordering portals and Portkeys to be used to get them all away. Soon enough only Albus remained, with Fawkes on his shoulder, watching the tide of angry demons literally throw themselves to their death upon his shield.

"Take us home Fawkes," Albus said, dropping the shield even as the Phoenix flame took them back to Hogwarts.

Stumbling from his many wounds and the exhaustion of so much magic used, Albus sank to his knees in his office, wondering how they could defeat such a foe.

" _By not being alone,_ " replied a voice, and Albus realized that his office was far brighter than he had remembered it to be. Turning to look, he behind a creature that radiated the same magical energy he had been infused with, while its crystallized body floated above the ground. Fawkes was crooning softly, as though basking within the light of the other creature.

" _I am K'uri, a Naaru,_ " the creature explained, offering light and hope to Albus for the first time that evening. " _And now that your people are safe, we must plan for the assault of the Legion upon your world, for the immediate and the prolonged siege that is sure to come once they realize you can and will resist them_."

Albus was not sure what the creature was referring to with the final part of its statement, but he agreed that their defenses must immediately be looked to. Standing, he realized as well that his injuries had all been mended by the mysterious power of the Light that seemed to weave all about the creature.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mephistroth didn't stay on the primitive human world for very long. As one of the supreme leaders of the Nathrezim he had greater duties to be taking care of, and with Archimonde in direct control of the invasion there was no need for one such servant of Kil'jaeden to waste their time on such a matter.

He had been perfectly honest with the human boy Nobu'tan, as they did indeed have the means to get him and his forces onto Azeroth proper, once their forces on that world found a suitable location to open a Fel portal without the other races growing too suspicious. The Undead Scourge was making a nice enough amount of havoc across the northern portions of Lordaeron, and soon enough the Lich King would make his move on Dalaran, and generate the long awaited portal for Archimonde to begin their advance on the crowning jewel of the cosmos.

Kil'jaeden had little care for the other beings of this world, so their destruction would simply be handed off to another lesser Eredar underling of Archimonde to finish what the General of the Legion had started, while he went personally to advance on their true prize.

In the midst of that chaos, all their resources were greatly tied up, it might have some major delays for when the orc-raised human could journey safely to the Legion conquered Azeroth, but that was the trick of the Legion was it not. They would fulfill their bargain, but that did not mean an end to their need of useful servants.

The boy was far too trusting, like his old master had been, up until the end, when the wily old orc had tried to enter the Tomb of Sargeras without the Legion's blessing, and take the power of the Tomb for himself. Still, Mephistroth knew that this child would be an excellent pawn for the many worlds that they had yet to take control of, and if the residents of Azeroth proved to put up a greater struggle than Archimonde supposed, he would be held in reserve to prepare the way for yet another invasion down the line.

The Legion had the time to be as patient as they wanted, even if it was contrary to their need to take the powerful worlds out of the grasp of the darker elements of the universe before it was a problem too great for them to handle.

The Dark Titan had shared some of his intended plans with the rulers of the Legion, and as the Nathrezim were the intelligence gatherers for their Crusade, it was natural that they had some facets of the truth behind all their wars and strife across the stars. But for now, the boy and his allies would wait, first on their world for a time, then extremely briefly on Argus, before they were sent off to their next assignment. Mephistroth knew that Archimonde would be heading for Azeroth soon enough, and then their work would begin at last.


	53. C52: A Span of Years

**Pat yourselves on the back, as we've made it at last to the next arc of the story! There isn't an official subtitle for the arcs, so to say, but I would probably label this next arc as "Finding Meaning," or something thereupon, and it covers... well... I ought not to spoil the timeline as of yet, maybe in the next chapter when it becomes apparent, if I survive the potential backlash that is... still, until then, enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty Two**

 **A Span of Years**

Kel'Thuzad, Lich Lord of the Scourge, leader of the Cult of the Damned, and Majordomo of Arthas, the Lich King, pondered what had befallen their world over the course of only a few short years.

The Legion invasion, caused by his own hand, had been crushed when Archimonde had fallen by the near destruction of the World Tree, and the Legion's advance had been broken, along with their control over the undead not many months later. The former Ranger General turned banshee, Sylvanas Windrunner, had seen to the defeat and killing of the Dreadlords that had remained to monitor the Scourge in Lordaeron, and while that made the self-styled Banshee Queen's rise to power occur, it had also made things simple for Kel'Thuzad to sweep the rest of the undead in the northern kingdom under his sway.

But still, in the quiet moments of his time, secluded in his chambers of the floating fortress of Naxxramas, Kel'Thuzad often thought of his life before the gift of undeath took him, back when he had been just a simple Archmage of the Kirin Tor, a life that included the most gifted child he had ever met, and when the same boy had come under his sway for such a short time.

Tobias Banu, the boy had named himself. Kel'Thuzad had long since convinced himself that it had been an alias that the child had concocted with his true master, the orc warlock Gul'dan, but nevertheless Kel'Thuzad had fallen for the boy's charm and trusting attitude over all things magical.

In all his studies of life and death, all his experiments in the solitude of his chambers, never had the Lich had any success in summoning the boy's spirit from beyond the grave, and while he was an immensely powerful spell caster in the realms of the living and the dead, Kel'Thuzad had to admit to himself that perhaps even he was outmatched to summon the banished spirit of his long absent apprentice.

He didn't dare hope for the other option, that the boy was in fact still alive somewhere, and couldn't be brought spiritually to a place where he couldn't go physically, as that would lead to many complicated matters that the Lich was unwilling to consider.

Still, there was never enough time for him to think and dream of such matters, as the work of spreading their gift of undeath throughout the Eastern Kingdoms was ever present, and the attacks from both the Argent Dawn and the Scarlet Crusade, as well as the ever present threat of the Forsaken were constantly weighting upon the Lich's great mind.

If only things had played out differently, he often mused, thinking how great a servant of the Lich King his former apprentice could have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan, now approaching his thirtieth year of life, looked at the portal before him and his gathered forces with trepidation. For so long they had been delayed by the whispered promises of Mephistroth, telling them that their time would be soon to enter Azeroth and prepare it for another Legion invasion, but time and again they were disappointed.

After Archimonde had departed their world to attack the planet Nobu'tan had feared that he was too late to find his old master, but was overjoyed, in secret, when he learned that the forces of Azeroth had defeated the mighty Eredar and pushed back the invasion.

Now, at long last, the Legion had found a group sufficient enough to provide a portal large enough for his mortal forces to cross over to Azeroth. From what the warlock had learned, a Doomguard by the name of Kazzak in the region near to the Dark Portal had been contacted at last and had material enough to open such a portal, and under Legion commands had done so.

It was finally time to go home.

Around him, the Council of the Black Harvest was assembled, as well as the sufficiently renewed Rockfang Ogre clan, with Teg'Ramm as their chieftain and chief warlock. The Centaur and Goblins had flourished as well, and they had numbers and to spare in going through the portal to their new destiny.

"Now remember our bargain, young warlock…" Mephistroth said, as he stood by and watched the assembled mortals prepared for their departure, "The Legion has many eyes and hands in Azeroth, and you are to do whatsoever you can to aid them in ushering in our coming; however, Kil'jaeden wants you to primarily establish a base on both continents for our forces to occupy once we return, so that our occupation cannot be halted once again, like it had before."

"Yes, Lord Mephistroth," Nobu'tan replied, already more than sick of the Dreadlord, as well as his demands and lies.

He would do as they commanded, but even as he agreed, Nobu'tan was unsure what he truly desired. Foremost he wanted to see if the Horde had succeeded in their designs. The records of the Legion regarding the world of Azeroth had not been granted to him, which was a terrible sore spot in which they were effectively going into this world blind of what had occurred, aside from the fact that there were demons abroad in the world, which Nobu'tan knew hadn't been the case before.

He hoped to find Gul'dan with little effort, and from where he guessed the Portal was located the best place to start would be to see Blackrock Mountain, which as far as he remembered was the greatest stronghold of the Horde in this land.

The fact that another continent even existed was news to him, but it served only to heighten his distrust of the Legion all the more. Morgan had been right, and they were planning on using him to his uttermost at every turn, keeping him as unaware as possible along the way, before almost abandoning him to his own world.

From the last he had heard, the survivors of the initial waves of attacks from the Legion had gathered together into a large defense, and managed to often hold off the Legion's advances, especially when their attack on Azeroth took precedence over even other worlds. But that had been shortly before they were summoned to Argus to pass through on their way to Azeroth, so Nobu'tan couldn't be sure of details or specific survivors.

"The world of Azeroth awaits you, young warlock. Now go and claim your reward from the Legion…" the Dreadlord said as part of a farewell, and disappeared into a cloud of Fel bats that scattered away across the charred remains of the planet.

Returning his attention to the swirling vortex before him, Nobu'tan took a deep breath, preparing himself emotionally for whatever changes had occurred on the world he had called home, and striven for so long to return to. Draco placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, silently signaling that not only were the rest of those assembled prepared for the journey, but that those of the Order were with him, understanding his plight and acknowledging his need for such mental preparation.

One step was all it took, the swirling current of the Nether whisking him through space to his destination, and he could sense the others following immediately, but his senses were torn away as he emerged from a gateway on the other side.

When he had learned that they would be emerging somewhere near to the Dark Portal's location, Nobu'tan presumed that it would be in the swampy area known as the Black Morass, but the view that he was greeted with: rocky barren soil and red ringed cliffs as far as the eye could see, was not even close to what he had expected to find.

"What is this place?" he asked aloud in orcish, much to the surprise of the figures powering the gateway, who had finally taken notice that figures had started to emerge. Clearly they had expected demons of some sort, and not a human to come from the world of the Legion.

But Nobu'tan didn't care what these underlings thought, and instead strode away, even as his followers started to emerge after him. The orc-raised human was bent on finding the one in charge, this Lord Kazzak, and getting some answers.

The Doomguard was not difficult to find. Towering over the other demons and Legion servants in the area, the colossal figure turned and peered down at Nobu'tan as the warlock approached. "Hail, mighty Kazzak, leader of this faction of the Legion's might," Nobu'tan said respectfully, acknowledging that this demon had strength enough to slaughter him in an instant if he so chose to, "I come on orders from our master, Kil'jaeden, and I require information of you."

"Speak, tiny human, while I am yet amused, for there is much to be done and it won't be long before the Mages of Nethergarde sense the distortions that our portal is creating." The Doomguard replied, somewhat angrily at the thought of answering to a mortal.

Nobu'tan recognized this, and made his questions brief and pointed, waiting for his forces to finish crossing the portal at the same time by keeping track of what signatures appeared from well behind him.

The Doomguard had much information to be sure. A near equal amount of time had passed on Azeroth from when Nobu'tan had left, and this area, now known as the Blasted Lands, was once the Black Morass, all vegetation and life sucked away and killed by the Nether powers of the Dark Portal, which stood vacant and empty in a crater beyond their location, known by the demon as the Dread Scar.

What was more, the Alliance of Lordaeron had succeeded over the Horde of Doomhammer, and the orcs were now spread throughout the continent, as well as gathered primarily on the other landmass known as Kalimdor. The fact that the Doomguard spat the name of the race led Nobu'tan to believe that their loss had been something substantial. Kazzak would only laugh if the name of Gul'dan was mentioned, and refused to say anything regarding the orc warlock.

"So where would you say is the best location nearby to hide my forces?" Nobu'tan asked of the demonic commander, who turned to gaze over the startling number of goblins, ogres, humans, centaur and Veela that had come with Nobu'tan.

"Nothing nearby, that is for certain," Kazzak replied, the anger fading from his voice as he took note of the Fel corruption and strength that some of the races sported. It was almost as though he was seeing Nobu'tan in a new light, as one that might be worthy of respect, rather than derision.

"North of here the Swamps of Sorrows might keep them hidden for a time, but there are both Horde and Alliance encampments that would fight you in an instant. Better to push further north to the Burning Steppes, where the last remnants of the Blackrock clan, and your old Horde, remain." He finally advised, before looking back out across the desolate landscape.

"I'd move out quickly, before the Mages start to send adventurers to investigate our workings here." he added, and Nobu'tan quite agreed.

Turning to Lucius and Draco, both of whom could have been almost mistaken for brothers now, due to the longevity of Wizards and their strong claim to youthfulness until their century mark approached. "Get everyone ready to move out, we have a long march ahead of us until we can safely camp for a time, we go north towards the Swamps of Sorrow, and west through the ruins of the Kingdom of Stormwind…"

"They are ruins no more, young warlock," Kazzak said from far over his shoulder, "the Kingdom of Azeroth is the last bastion of Alliance humans on the continent, you way will be potentially perilous unless you take a very exact route, which I will graciously provide to you… If…" the demon added.

"If what?" Nobu'tan said, bored at the near irritating foils of working with demons. Every single one would give you what you wanted, at a price.

"Attack Nethergarde along your way out of the Blasted Lands, as it will not only distract them from our doings here in the Scar, but it will also hinder the power of the Humans. I have found… something, of great worth, and it would do well that your arrival didn't spoil the knowledge of what I have discovered. It may lead to great things for the Legion soon if I am able to work with it unmolested by these mortals." The Doomguard explained.

"I can agree to that, Lord Kazzak," Nobu'tan said, already planning what they would need to do to disguise their forces. It wouldn't do for the Humans to learn that their own kind was behind the attack. Better for them to think it was orcs or another race instead.

"Good, then I will prepare a map especially for your use, while you ready a strike force and prepare to move you other troops through to the swamps in the confusion." The demon stated, walking away.

"Just when you think you've escaped the conniving ways of demons, there's always another one right around the corner," Lucius said softly next to Nobu'tan, and the warlock smirked.

"Yes, but it gains us a great deal of what I desire, as we can test our mettle against the forces of this world, as well as gain a safe route to get to a better location to build up a settlement for our people. Well fully decide how to proceed when we have this map and are safely hidden within the swamps. There ought to be a bit of time that we can plan out how we travel after that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was somewhat distracted from the activities that Lord Nobu'tan had with his father, as he experienced the powerful magic of the world that Nobu'tan called home. It was irrefutably glorious to sense, Arcane power ripe and pulsing through the earth beneath their feet, with a strong sense of Fel from an area to the northeast, which he presumed was this 'Dark Portal' that Nobu'tan mentioned a few times.

Soon enough they were on the move, heading out of the dark canyon that the demons had infested, and away from the source of Fel magic, toward the west around a large outcropping of mountains.

Walking in the front with the rest of the Council, Draco noticed the scampering of life ahead of them before they physically spotted the creatures. Ogres, and quite a large number of them, were situated in a valley between several caves, going about what passed for ordinary life for the typically unintelligent breed of monster.

Teg'Ramm looked rather pleased to see more of his race, and Nobu'tan had to restrain him with a shake of the head before the ogre mage started to approach, "These are not likely to be friendly to you or your kind Teg'Ramm," he stated, and the ogre mage frowned, realizing that it would indeed appear as a rival clan trying to take their home if he or any other approached so armed and with a strong company of mixed creatures.

"What shall we do about them then?" the two eyed head responded, follow closely by its twin, who only sported one orb, "They do lie in our pathway and we will need to cross through them to proceed."

"Let the Fel Centaur drive them away for a time." Nobu'tan said after thinking for a long moment, "The other residence of this place would take note if the ogres were to disappear or mysteriously die off…"

Edgran reared back in pleasure, bellowing out a war cry to summon the warriors of his herd. The ogres down in the valley turned to look up stupidly as the centaur charged down, bows firing and long spears jabbing at the naked hides of the ogres, while the speed of the Fel Centaur allowed them to outmaneuver the wild swings of the ogre clan.

Soon enough the brutes had realized that they couldn't win, especially when they spotted the extra forces slowly approaching, and started to flee in all directions. Draco could only scoff at the ridiculousness of the setup of their encampment.

"Search the caves, take anything of value," Teg'Ramm ordered his ogres, even while Nobu'tan led the main contingent straight through and past the village. Soon enough the rest rejoined them, the ogres carrying treasure that they had pillaged from the caves, and while Lucius and Draco disapproved of the brutish act, they acknowledged that in this scenario, they had little options of they wanted to have something when they established a stronghold for themselves.

The pass through the mountains beyond was more or less vacant, with the ogres having fled for their lives for a time, and started to cross the front entrance to a large fortress filled with more ogres, presumable where those from the village had fled.

It was a large force that they were moving through the area, but Draco was surprised that they were more or less unobserved as they marched, turning directly north and heading up a small rise toward a tiny pass in the surrounding mountains, where the terrain gave way to a lush and almost overgrown green, along with the stink of standing water.

That direction must lead to the Swamps of Sorrows that was mentioned before, and Draco almost wondered if Nobu'tan would just go straight for the safety of the overgrown trees in that lowland, and forget about the request that the Demon had asked of them.

But no, while the majority of their forces did turn toward the swamps, with instructions to find a close area to seclude themselves for a short time until the rest joined them, Nobu'tan turned their ogre magi and the Order of the Black Harvest toward the east once more, where a fortress rose up over the cliff-like rise, the walls glowing slightly with vague purple arcane energy.

"Teg'Ramm, now is the time for your people to strike, so that the humans and mages here believe that the ogres we chased away are the ones behind the anomaly of magic and spike of movement in the area, rather than them starting to wonder about the demons." Nobu'tan ordered, and the twin headed ogre warlock smirked.

"As you command Lord Nobu'tan," the ogre chieftain stated, taking the lead and sending in his warrior to accost the out defenses of the human stronghold.

Nobu'tan remained for a short time, just watching as the humans swarmed to try and fend off the ogre attack. "No knights," he commented, more to himself than any of the others, and Draco wondered at what the warlock meant. Nobu'tan was by far the most familiar with what was normal for this world.

"Our forces will have the advantage until their mages come fully into play, and Teg'Ramm is intelligent enough to know to withdraw when they start to become outnumbered. I will remain for a short time, go and catch up with the rest of our group and send me an eye with their location so we can follow." Nobu'tan said, dismissing them, "when we regroup we will decide how best to proceed to the north."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was overjoyed to be given such a task as engaging the humans of this new world. His clan had been chomping at the bit for some combat, especially now that they knew other ogres existed to challenge for dominance here, but the humans were a good start.

The defenders seemed to have been on edge, probably from their wizards sensing pulses of magic that heralded their arrival on this world, but their small armored forms were not nearly powerful enough to resist the smashing blows of the ogre's weapons.

The humans had some archers, as well as other allies, but there was little that could contend with the strength of Teg'Ramm's forces, until the mages arrived, heralded when one brutish warrior transformed into a docile sheep, which was frightened and bolted back toward where Lord Nobu'tan watched over the entire battle.

Roaring in their language, Teg'Ramm sounded for them to withdraw; their task was done now that the fortress was stirred up in anger to the ogres that had attacked them. Naturally the humans wouldn't be able to tell that the forces that attacked them were not the same as those ogres that were already present in these lands, which would play to their advantage.

The humans did not pursue them, and Teg'Ramm and Nobu'tan made sure that their mages were unable to spy upon them with magic as they withdrew to the north, exiting these Blasted Lands and quickly following the directions that the others had sent back to guide them to the small clearing where their forces had gathered, out in the swampland away from the settlements that were nearby.

Nobu'tan paused before they left the road to enter the swamp properly and rejoin their forces, gazing from their small crossroad toward the east, where a makeshift settlement was established, and Teg'Ramm could barely make out figures slightly larger than humans guarding the gate.

"That is Stonard, an orc fortress…" the human warlock said with a small measure of longing, as though he wanted to go and try to investigate, but the Ogre Mage placed a massive hand on his master's shoulder, silently reminding him of their pressing task and that they could not afford to be distracted at this time.

With clear effort, Nobu'tan tore his eyes away and nodded, following them through the shallow water to where the other had halted for a rest in their march.

The rest of council was waiting there, and looked eagerly on as Nobu'tan unrolled the map that the Doomguard Kazzak had given to them. "It seems, that, instead of the path that I would have taken through Deadwind Pass and up through the valleys to the north," Nobu'tan stated, following the marked path with his finger, "Kazzak wants us to go straight north through the swamps and up the mountains through a tiny, little known pass that will take us straight into the valley in the midst of the Redridge mountains beyond."

"We will need to take time for a short rest beforehand," Lucius said, gazing about at the many people that they had lingering in the small isles of land in the swamp. Teg'Ramm felt fine, even after the small skirmish along with the forced march, but he understood that the smaller creatures were likely far easier to tire than he and his fellow ogres.

"If that is the case, there was an orc settlement a short ways back that I wish to investigate, I shall return soon and we will push on then." Nobu'tan said, shifting easily into the form of an old grizzled orc.

"I do not feel secure allowing you to go on your own, Lord Nobu'tan…" Lucius countered, but Teg'Ramm, who was also interested in the strange new races that his master longed to see, stepped forward.

"I will attend to him during this trip," the ogre mage stated, to which Lucius could only nod, still clearly unhappy about the sudden desire of their guide and leader, but he had no standpoint to argue with the hulking ogre accompanying their leader.

Nobu'tan also agreed, but encouraged the ogre to be as least threatening as possible, as there were very different things going on and he was unsure what the current standpoint of the various races of the Horde he remembered.

Slowly the pair backtracked to the road, and made their way toward the stronghold of Stonard. The guards at the entrance were clearly agitated by the presence of the ogre, but the fact that Teg'Ramm accompanied one of their own kind, seemingly, was enough for them to not attack.

Nobu'tan seemed confused by the lack of open welcome, especially as he was still clearly dressed as a grand warlock, but the orcs seemed to regard him with far less than complete awe or fear.

It was a rather small encampment, not nearly as large as what Teg'Ramm had been led to believe, and Nobu'tan slowly wandered toward what looked like a lead command building, or at least the largest building of the small handful that were within the walled area.

The two guards to that building however weren't as confused by Teg'Ramm's appearance than the last, and moved to block Nobu'tan's way into the building. "You shall not see the Commander with that beast in tow," one of the pair said.

"And why ever not?" Nobu'tan countered, his voice the gravely drawl that he always chose to portray of his old master, and the orcs before him shuddered slightly at the sound of it, "The ogres are an ever-present member of the Horde, and should be allowed to sit in on my business with your leader…"

The guards laughed, despite the fact that they were still rather unnerved by the voice that Nobu'tan used, "Ogres are no longer part of the Horde; they are their own mindless rabble that deal in the waste parts of the world."

"I see there is much that I have missed while I have been away," Nobu'tan said icily, "Teg'Ramm, wait here and keep these two company while I speak with and gain information from their… Commander you say?"

The guard who had spoken nodded, "Yes, Commander Ruag will be there, but only you may enter to speak with him, warlock…"

And so Teg'Ramm waited, while the two guards shifted nervously under the baleful watch of the Ogre Mage, even as Nobu'tan entered the building and was directed up a spiral staircase at the rear of the building's main room.

There was several minutes of silence, before an almost strangled shriek rocked through the building, and the guards leapt into action, charging to the rear along with half a dozen other and flying up the stairs, leaving Teg'Ramm to wonder what had occurred.

It was highly unlikely that Nobu'tan would intentionally cause such a ruckus so soon after arriving on Azeroth, but curiosity eventually overwhelmed his desire to obey the commands of his master, and he ducked low to enter the building.

Up the stairs the guards were fanned out in a rough semicircle, weapons drawn and caution on their faces as Nobu'tan stood before the leader, who looked positive frightened at the appearance of the warlock.

"It cannot be!" the leader shouted, his own sword drawn and pointing at Nobu'tan, "You are dead, you died at the hands of the demons you sought to betray the Horde to so long ago!"

"I do not know what you are talking about, old one," Nobu'tan replied calmly, almost unfazed by the sheer number of hostile weapons pointed at him, "I am only seeking information regarding the current state of things, as I have been out of contact from the Horde for a number of years."

"A couple of years… Ha!" the orc spat, "You do not frighten me Gul'dan, you were dead over a decade ago, and your ghost cannot haunt these lands any longer."

Nobu'tan went rigid, even as Teg'Ramm mounted the rather small landing, smaller now that he was crowded in with the half dozen orcs. "What happened to Gul'dan?" he demanded coldly, stepping forward toward the leader, "Answer me! What happened to Gul'dan the Warlock!"

Teg'Ramm could see that the stalemate was about to break into a fully fledged battle if the warlock did not bid a hasty retreat, so the Ogre Mage stepped forward. Pushing aside the grunts and taking hold of his master, Teg'Ramm departed just as swiftly as he arrived, long before the commander or his grunts could react. He half carried, half dragged the protesting Nobu'tan out of the building and toward the exit of the stronghold altogether.

The guards at the entrance almost tried to halt him, but a charging ogre is something that even these creatures were hesitant to try and stop, and Teg'Ramm barreled past them and into the swamp proper, before any of the guards could raise the alarm or exit the main complex.

Unsure if they would be pursued, Teg'Ramm didn't stop until they had returned to the temporary rest stop of the rest of Nobu'tan forces, and deposited the warlock amid the other Council leaders. Lucius was furious at what had happened, but the man seemed to silently understand why Nobu'tan had reacted thusly, as did the majority of the inner circle of warlocks.

Together they all agreed that moving out was the most important thing to do, and get well away from the orcish encampment and further to the north toward the line of mountains where the secret pass was located on their map.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took several hours, but under Lucius stern guidance, the entire group made it to the northern mountains without incident, aside from a small bout with some strange, half-deranged creatures that lived in huts on the northern edge of the swamps, which were easily routed and driven away by the Fel Centaur.

Nobu'tan remained rather silent and standoffish throughout the time they marched through the swamps, but most everyone who was actually close to their leader understood what the Ogre Mage had reported, and gave the grieving warlock the space he needed. Their leader would recover from this, he had to if they were to survive, but they had time to allow him his moment to sulk before they needed him to arise and move on.

The pass was narrow, easy to overlook and rather windy as it led it the steep slopes of the mountains, so the group took their time, guiding those with their provisions to go on ahead after a small vanguard to protect their decent on the opposite side, while the others kept watch for any possible trackers from the orc encampment. They had passed near to a few towers that were stationed on the outskirts of the swamps, along roads that wound through the islands, but they stayed in the shelter of the low trees and kept themselves out of as much line of sight as they could.

Narcissa was having some difficulty adjusting to the excessive amount of walking, along with many of the other Purebloods from their old world, but Lucius could tell that his wife was trying to be strong, and push through even her aching feet as they marched along.

She would need to stop and rest for quite a while soon, and Lucius could tell that many of their human allies were in the same shape. Grasping her hand as he guided her up to the first switchback on the narrow pass, he whispered in her ear, "not much farther now, we'll rest on the other side of the mountains, then I think we'll try to find a place where you and some of the others can take shelter while we scout ahead with our magic."

She smiled at him, the look of pure love bolstering his heart, and Lucius took courage. They were going to make a new life in this world, once they found somewhere decent and proper to lay a claim to and plant new roots for their family.

Glancing back at his son, Lucius couldn't help but feel the swell of pride engulf him as the young man aided some of their more weary travelers ascend from the mountain's base, guiding them along with great care and consideration, like the noble wizard that he was born as. Even with all his training in the deadly arts of the Fel and those other skills of the Dark Arts that Lucius had instructed their younger members in over the years they waited to come to this place, his son had always been an example of the regal bearing that they still held to, even in these difficult times.

It was also interesting to note that his son was finally starting to dote upon the Parkinson's daughter, another of the children from Hogwarts that had joined the ranks of the Black Harvest. She was nowhere near Draco's level of skill, but she was a good proper Pureblood girl, and clearly was infatuated with Lucius' son, so he would gladly condone their union. The times as they had been, there had been little urging from any party to making such things permanent, but he expected that as soon as they settled down in a single area it wouldn't take long before they were properly courting and discussing marriage.

Once Lucius and Narcissa rose over the last part of the ridge, they looked down toward the destination, the Redridge Mountain valley, which spread out before them like a rough forest from their own world. A massive lake stood in the center of the area, and beyond that a settlement stretched along the western side. From the looks of the building Lucius would have guessed human, but in this place there was no way of knowing.

Still, if it was civilized he would greatly desire to allow his wife, and many of the others to rest there comfortably in an inn or some other place, while their more stout and strong members paved the way ahead to the north, where massive black iron gates could be seen flanking the dark soil of a volcanic strewn land.

"That black land is our destination, isn't it…?" Narcissa said, still slightly winded from the climb, but regaining her strength quickly.

"It is, for most of us," Lucius stated, already forming a plan in his mind. They had brought much of their world's gold and jewels, supplied and repurposed by the goblins that had joined them to appear rough and unprocessed to the eyes of others, rather than the standard quality of Gringotts mint, as they would stand out as highly unusual and beg many questions as to their origin otherwise.

"I will put it to the council when we gather at the base of the mountains if it would be possible to send some of us to that settlement, not only to rest but to establish some lines of communication, perhaps forwarding some more toward the larger cities that may be somewhere near here." Lucius suggested, knowing that his wife would greatly desire a large place to settle down in rather than camping out in the wastes of this world, even for a single night longer.

Nobu'tan appeared at the top of the rise of mountains, and Lucius turned to him, noticing that the young warlock was gazing toward the north with a wistful look of foreboding of what they might find.

"We will uncover the truth, my Lord," Lucius said, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder, snapping Nobu'tan from his thoughts, "but while we proceed onward to the darker land, what would you say to sending some of our people, namely those who lack the Fel and are human to the nearest settlements, to start creating a communication network within the nearby human civilization?"

The sharp eyes of the warlock did not mistake the tightening of Lucius' other hand on his wife's shoulder, but the face softened as he heeding the silent plea in his ally's request. "Yes, it would serve many purposes to allow such a network to begin. But I would recommend that they quickly make their way toward Stormwind, which apparently has been rebuilt since I was here last." He said. "It would be good for us to start infiltrating our potential enemies as quickly as possible."

"Thank you, Lord Nobu'tan, I will confer with the others and lead those who will proceed to the settlement, making sure they are supplied with a portion of our gold to get themselves situated and on their way to the capital." Lucius said quickly, even as Nobu'tan started down the far side of the mountains, and both of the elder Malfoys had to follow quickly to free space for those that were still climbing behind them.

Once Lucius had helped his wife to the ground within the redwood forest of the mountain valley, he started to circulate through the other Ex-Death Eater followers of Nobu'tan, Gathering the wives of those who were married, as well as the handful of children that had not taken on the powers of the Fel, and with the permission of their husbands and fathers, started as a group toward the settlement, which turned out to be primarily human in origin when they drew nearer.

Their approach was not unnoticed, and the people were speaking to each other in their strange language, but thanks to Nobu'tan's foresight of the language barrier, he had trained them all in the charm that translated languages, tailored specifically for the primary languages of Azeroth.

Therefore, they were well aware of what these commoners thought of the strange noble-born people that had come to their town, and even the speculation that they were elves, which while Nobu'tan had explained that elves were something completely different in this world, was still a strange concept to Lucius personally.

Unafraid of these people, especially with their medieval style of weapons and armor, Lucius approached an armored foot soldier, which stood at attention when he noticed Lucius. "I require directions to the nearest inn. My people are tired and need a clean place to stay for a time." Lucius requested, thinking that he might need to grease the man's hand with gold, but the guard immediately responded without further need of Lucius to provide incentive.

"Of course my Lord, Lakeshire sports a large and well established inn, and I am sure you will find all that you need for the right price, it's just across the bridge and to the left; the building with the large red roof is the one you seek." The guard said helpfully, gesturing across the river feeding into the massive lake that dominated most of the area.

Lucius nodded, grateful for the notion of assistance that did not require him to flex his power or influence, and made his way in the lead of the women and children across the wide, and slightly damaged, bridge that led into the town properly.

Lucius was pleasantly surprised that the settlement was relatively large, and he would estimate that at least one thousand people or more lived in the many homes and works that various businesses that he could see. Most were commoner class people, fisherman and farmers, with some merchants and other professionals. But then there were other things that stood out drastically from their home world, such as dwarves and even smaller creatures that Lucius almost mistook for House Elves, but corrected himself before allowing the concept to sink in.

There were also mages wandering about from time to time, freely using their magic in their day-to-day lives without fear of scrutiny or retribution from those who lacked such skills. It was a wonder and a delight to many of their people, many of who would think of how much their magic would make life easier now that they could use it openly.

Lucius arrived at the inn, and having only his wife enter with him, quickly navigated the tavern-like ground floor in search of the innkeeper. It turned out that the proprietor was a woman, introduced herself as Brianna. "Greetings Milord, how can I be of assistance to you?" she asked respectfully, and Lucius once again thanked the expensiveness of his robes, as it almost immediately made certain that he was treated better than some normal rabble that arrived begging for assistance.

"Yes," Lucius said with a smile, "I am leading a group of people away from the south, and we are in need of somewhere to rest for a short time before we push on to the west and the capital."

"Of course, we have plenty of available rooms for any number of guests, so long as you have funds to afford keep for a few nights, and I could recommend several places for convenient transportation to the capital, depending on how much you're willing to spend." The innkeeper mentioned.

In response, as he had known that eventually their story would have to be backed up by gold, Lucius produced a bag of the raw coins that their goblin allies had rendered for them, placing a neat stack upon the bar for the woman to see. From the bulge of her eyes at the sight of the money, it was significantly more than she had anticipated or would have charged for her facilities or assistance.

"I trust that that will be sufficient for our time and needs," Lucius said, smirking slightly at the woman's inability to regain control of herself. Then turning to his wife, Lucius gave her the instructions that she would need for him to find her once the business in the Burning Steppes was completed, and handed her the sack of gold for the needs of their people. "Take whatever means you deem most effective to get to Stormwind; I will be with you again soon," he said, kissing her fiercely, shortly before taking his leave, departing to rejoin the rest of their group heading north.


	54. C53: The Dark Horde

**Just to point out a small overlook that a handful of reviewers have mentioned, the Order of the Black Harvest, and their allies, spent next to no time actually on Argus, merely passed through Argus when they were finally allowed to go to Azeroth. It may be that the detail was so subtle that it was overlooked, or otherwise wasn't clear, but that fact is touched on again later on. I only am pointing this out as the 'power level,' of the various characters would be drastically different if they had spent any amount of time learning on Argus, as people have mentioned, but that did not occur, therefore I am forestalling any future mention of whether or not the character are weaker than they ought to appear to be. At this point, as far as game mechanics are concerned, all the leaders are in the level 60 bracket, as far as vanilla is concerned, just to give the idea of where they ought to be in terms of strength and spells available. Still, many thanks to the eagle eyed readers who make mention of these things, it helps me recognize where I need to be less subtle. That being said, enjoy the next chapter!**

 **Chapter Fifty Three**

 **The Dark Horde**

Voldemort sighed as the large company of goblins, trolls, Veela, and humans followed his old nemesis around to the eastern side of the massive lake. Lucius, the deceitful serpent that he was, had taken another group to the west and north, comprised primarily of women and children. They were heading straight for the settlement that was situated there, in order to remove those who were unable to fight properly from their midst as they pressed on to the blackened, desolate area that lay far to the north.

As much as it galled the former Dark Lord that he now was servant to Potter, he had to admit that the boy, now turned a man, made a fine leader from time to time as they marched, although giving far too much heed to those surrounding him and not taking as much of his own counsel to heart. The lust to kill the warlock immediately had grown cold, much as had many of his other emotions and desires in the frozen wake of death, but Voldemort was still a cunning and ambitious man, and vengeance was his most powerful tool.

He may yet still try to undermine Potter, if he could, but for the time being he would wait, biding his time for the right moment to strike. When he deemed that it was needed, he would retake his place as the head of these refugees from their old world.

Although, even as they passed through a narrow canyon and approached a large bridge leading toward what appeared to be an abandoned keep of stone, Voldemort wondered if he would even be within this world's league of great powers now, with only these new death magic that he had been given. Technically the warlock had inadvertently granted him his heart's desire, as now that he was effectively one of the undead, a being greater than even the inferi that he himself had once created, but still, it had not been worth his dethroning as the most powerful sorcerer of their age.

And to top it off, Potter then turned around and sold their entire world to demons for them to burn, all for a one way ticket back to some other world on their errand like some pathetic heralds of doom. It was sickening. But even as the dead body that was Lord Voldemort turned his lifeless eyes upon the illusioned form of Potter, now shrouded once more as one of the hunched, green beings that inhabited this world, he sensed that there was something more at work, a thing which he himself was not aware of.

Knowing that he had to gain the warlock's confidence, get into his inner circle and learn of his plans before making any of his own, the Dark Lord decided to do what he could to aid their leader for now, even if he had no real option of attempting to hinder the warlock at this time.

They were halted just outside the fortress, as another pair of these creatures, clad in bulky metal armor and wielding massive axes stepped from the shadows, speaking to Potter in their deplorable tongue, of which Voldemort had only learned a passable amount in preparation for their departure to this world.

The guards, for that was what these two were doing at this spot of the fortress, were demanding that Nobu'tan identify himself, and his company, and tell the pair of them whom they served, whether it was their leader in the Burning Steppes, or if they were one of the pretender's minions.

Whoever this pretender they mentioned was, Voldemort did not know, but Nobu'tan seemed to have a small idea, and pressed upon them the notion that he was no orc's servant with a powerful gout of Fel magic, but rather the returning leader of the Stormreaver Clan, come to take their place once more at the side of the true Horde.

Whatever these names meant to the orcs, it was clearly something of relative importance, as the guards were fearful of Potter, in his name of Nobu'tan, and hurried to get out of the way of the company as they passed into the fortress. The other humans had all disguised themselves as orcs, but Voldemort had no access to that sort of magic, and was the target of many glares and snarls by what turned out to be a massive collection of the green and grey skinned creatures.

None dared approach him though, as even through the shrouds and cloak he wore to conceal his dead features, they could sense the power and death that reeked from him. Clearly he was some sort of familiar creature to them, as they tolerated his presence therefore. They were escorted directly to the entrance of the inner Keep of the fortress, until another, larger orc with massive pauldrons on his shoulders and a cruel looking longsword in hand stopped them.

From the looks of him, Voldemort could determine that he was not the leader of this band, but still one in authority to command, so a lieutenant or some other underling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was in his element once more. Surrounded by his people, and in an encampment of orcs that heralded from the Blackrock Clan, greatest and chief out of the Horde, he being led to their leader as the Chieftain of the Stormreavers, a name that still wielded some measure of power and fear, even after they were completely destroyed, or so it was as far as what Nobu'tan could gather from the muttering of the other orcs around them.

He had made sure that they were decorated with the appropriate colors and banners of the clan, just to emphasize that he was who he claimed to be, a warlock from under the tutelage of Gul'dan, and rightful heir of the clan leadership. Whether this led to respect, fear or hatred, he wasn't sure, but it was enough that they were not attacked on sight, but recognized as possible allies, as it seemed that these orcs were not affiliated with those of Stonard, which was confusing in and of itself.

But those were questions for another time, as the orc who stepped before him angrily, demanding who he was and what he was doing on Blackrock Lands threatened him with drawn sword.

"Is it normal," Nobu'tan said, barely repressing the seething anger in his belly, "for orcs of honor to approach another with drawn weapon and threats of violence, when we ought to be united under the banner of the Horde?"

There was a smattering of mutters around the assembled orcs, who had turned out to see these newcomers, and learn what their purpose was.

"I am Thrail'zun, petty warlock," the orc said, refusing to back down, "and I am lieutenant to Gath'llzogg, commander of this faction of the Blackrock, your magic does not scare me, now answer my questions or so help me I will remove your ugly head from your shoulders, and save us all the trouble of your serpent words."

Nobu'tan smirked. He had been waiting for the first fool that attempted to execute authority or lord some sort of rank over him. Rising to the full height that his illusion allowed, and bearing the tabard of the Stormreavers for all to see upon his chest, Nobu'tan spoke loud and clearly, "I am not of your clan, so your authority I need not recognize. If you want Mak'gora, Tharil'zun, I will give it you, and you will lose. It is information from your leader that I need, and we will move on to the north, to report to the Warchief of our return."

For a moment it almost appeared that Tharil'zun would throw down his sword and engage in the honor duel with Nobu'tan right then and there, but another orc, far larger than the lieutenant emerged from the keep interior, grunting in irritation at the massive group of mixed races that were within his keep.

"Thrail'zun," the orc demanded angrily, "What are all these things doing here, why have you not defended our position? If the humans find us, Warchief Rend will have our heads."

"I gather you are in charge here, then?" Nobu'tan said, addressing the new orc and completely ignoring the lieutenant from there on.

"What is it to you, weakling?" the orc said, turning to look at him, moments before he spotted the blue tabard with the crescent moon and lightning bolt over a cresting wave, the symbols of the Stormreaver Clan.

"And Rend, son of Blackhand, is Warchief…" Nobu'tan continued, allowing the orc's silence to declare his intimidation at the form and appearance of a warlock of the old clan of Gul'dan, "Most interesting… what are the passwords and checkpoints from here up to Blackrock Spire? I fear it has been some time since our clan has had interaction with the true Horde."

Tharil'zun wasn't as old as his commander, clearly, and had little memory for what Nobu'tan represented, and correspondingly had no respect either. "Silence, warlock, your kind aren't in control of the Horde any longer," he spat, and Nobu'tan held up a hand to prevent Teg'Ramm from reacting in the midst of all these.

"Honorless worm, you need a better level of control over your underlings, commander," Nobu'tan countered, refusing to back down in front of his apparent rival here. His seeming loyalty was not to be denied, and he would march his people through to attack the Spire if they had to in order to establish his control over the Horde.

After a long moment of silence, in which the three watched each other for the first one to yield, and the commander spoke at last, "I will honor the pact that the warlocks of the Stormreavers once held in the horde, despite their treachery in the past. Warchief Rend will want to know about this development."

Tharil'zun seemed incensed that he was more or less shunted to the side with his less than useful opinion of the newcomers, but Nobu'tan didn't care, he had won what he desired, and gladly he and the others of the Black Harvest, still disguised as orcs, moved to follow the commander into the ruined Keep, where he held some rough papers that had the locations of their encampments and the secret words and phrases to bypass them without conflict.

Nobu'tan got the feeling that the orc was just giving in only to get rid of them, likely because the added bodies in their base could easily draw attention and ruin the stealth of whatever mission they were up to.

The warlock didn't care; however, and as soon as they had refreshed themselves for a small moment with a meal they pressed onward, departing the keep on its north end, seeing that the orcish encampment extended quite a ways throughout the mountain valley on the eastern side of the lake.

It was rather disturbing on the part of the humans of this area that they had not yet called for reinforcements to eliminate the garrisons that were stationed here of the Horde. But it worked out for Nobu'tan's favor this way better, so he wouldn't complain, merely be concerned that they were completely unaware of such a move ordered by Rend Blackhand.

Nobu'tan remembered the twin sons of the former Warchief, fools and childish even in their adult age, which Gul'dan had explained was caused by rapidly ageing them so that the Horde had more warriors for the initial attack into Azeroth.

It served to make Nobu'tan believe that it would be all the easier to control the Warchief, and take control of the factions here for good. It would be the perfect base from which to expand and seek out the scattered Legion factions that were lacking in communication and orders for the overarching plan for the demonic forces altogether.

Crossing into the Burning Steppes went far smoother now that they had the passwords and signs to prevent random attacks from the orcs camps hidden in the hills. When there was a second faction of orcs altogether with their own Horde, Nobu'tan understood why it was needed, as there was at last a reason to not be able to trust your own, which was a fact that Nobu'tan could manipulate in the Warchief and turn to his advantage.

Eventually, Lucius rejoined them, disguised as one of the orcs, and mentioned that the women and young children were on their way to Stormwind in caravans, helpfully supplied from the villagers of Lakeshire, the settlement on the western side of the lake.

Everything thus far was going well, and Nobu'tan was feeling good about his plans as they marched up into the soot covered black lands of the valley south of the massive volcano that was the main fortress of the Horde in this land.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco watched the land around them as they progressed into the bleak and desolate landscape just north of the pleasant lakeside mountain valley. It was rather odd for such a different biome to be so close, but he figured that the wall of mountains served to prevent the destruction that came presumably from the massive Volcano at the eastern part of the soot covered valley.

Knowing that somehow, their destination was that blackened mountain, Draco kept silent as they crossed through the land toward the rising mountain. Even still with the dead landscape, there were plenty of things to attract his attention as they progressed.

The Horde had plenty of encampments throughout the dark valley, and surprisingly their own company was not terribly out of place among them. Orcs and ogres were very plentiful, with the occasional knot of goblins, although it was strange to see many four legged reptilian creatures that accompanied very small dragons and larger drakes in large abundance.

Even still, their group had many members that were strange and unusual to these people, such as the Fel Veela and the Centaurs, which drew much attention from the surrounding forces, but because of their knowledge of the passwords and sign they were unmolested as they traveled.

Draco wondered if they would have to enter the mountain itself to meet with the Warchief of this Horde, but he was surprised to find that they were directed away from the massive ramp leading up to the mountain fortress, and toward a sizeable base at the foot of it, dominated by a massive statue of a human warrior, which was strange enough for what Draco knew regarding these orcs and their hatred for the other race.

A heavily armored grunt approached as they group arrived at the outskirts of the base, "Throm-Ka warriors, you are requested; Warchief Rend Blackhand wishes to speak with you." He said in the heavily accented voice.

Nobu'tan nodded, "Throm-Ka, we shall meet with him now, but where can my clan go to settle themselves after our long journey from the south?"

"We have space prepared for them," the warrior responded respectfully, "although we didn't expect such a large group to arrive so suddenly…"

"Whatever is available will be sufficient," Draco mentioned, and the orc looked at him for the briefest moment, before nodding in acknowledgement, and turning to lead the Council of the Black Harvest to their leader.

The six warlocks followed, leaving Teg'Ramm and their others to manage their setting up of their own residencies for the time being. Through the sea of tents the six leaders of their Order were taken to a massive tent decorated in bones and other trophies of victory in battle.

"Rend always was so focused on making sure he was respected…" Nobu'tan commented casually, looking at an orcish skull that hung just over the tent entrance, probably the head of some rival, just before they were invited inside.

Within sat another orc upon a throne of furs and bone, armored in red and loosely gripping a large, two handed sword as he watched out of the one eye he had remaining, the other socket covered by a black patch.

"I cannot believe my eye, nor had I believed my ears when I heard that Stormreaver filth somehow survived the destruction that my and my brother's clan had wreaked on the traitors." The orc snarled, surrounded by a handful of guards, "and now you pathetic warlocks come crawling back to us, expecting our aid and hospitality?"

Nobu'tan seemed caught off guard at the vitriol that was thrown at them, but Lucius seemed to flow into his element, stepping forward a step and addressing the orcish warlord. "It would seem that way, Warchief, but we were not part of that traitorous group, but were left behind in the wilds when Gul'dan made his bid for power…"

The lies flowing from his father's tongue were perfect, and even though it was clear to those of the Council that their spokesman only knew part of what had actually occurred, his words were vague enough to be believable.

"We wanted to return and aid the Horde, as we were duty bound to do, but Gul'dan prevented us with his magic and for a long time we were hounded by humans and other foes, until we finally found our way, along with new allies that guided us and gave us the strength we needed to return to these lands." Lucius said, and Draco could sense the magic that was he casually wove into the words to convince the orc Warchief of their truth, regardless of the lies that they were.

And it was working, almost too easily. "I understand you point," the orc said after a time, clearly growing tired of thinking about the ramifications of their story, "I will reaccept your faction of the Stormreavers into the Horde, but I will be keeping an eye on you all, because I do not trust warlocks."

"As you wish, Warchief," Nobu'tan stated, taking the place of Lucius at the forefront, "What are the plans for the Horde, I see you have a mighty force here, as well as scouts spying out the human settlements to the south, when do we attack?"

"We don't," Rend replied, looking sickened at the words but being forced to say them.

Nobu'tan paused, "Why ever not? The humans are weak and ready to be destroyed."

"Lord Nefarius wants us to focus on consolidating the Fortress of Blackrock Mountain first, and finish his experiments on the dragons to give us an unstoppable force, and then we will surge out on wings of death and fire to crush our enemies."

Draco didn't like the sound of this Lord personally, and clearly the shift in stance from all the Council meant they were in agreement. "Who is this Lord of whom you speak?" Nobu'tan asked, and Rend glowered before replying.

"A Human lord that has great influence and power, who enabled us to survive and return to this place after the humans crushed our mighty Horde, slew the traitor Doomhammer, and has since then been preparing for the Horde's triumphant return to the world." Rend said, although even Draco could perceive that the orc was not fully convinced by his own words.

Nobu'tan clearly could tell as well, and pressed the advantage, "But it's not exactly what you had in mind for the Horde, is it Warchief?"

Rend's eye said it all. The orc wanted glory for his warriors, not to huddle in their fortress like dogs waiting for some event in the future.

"What if I could free you from the bargain you have with this Lord Nefarius?" Nobu'tan offered, "Would you consider reinstating the Stormreavers as your advisors and agents throughout Azeroth, so that we can proceed wisely to reestablish the Horde as a power, over even the pretender…"

Rend seemed hesitant to trust warlocks, especially ones that heralded under the flag of the Stormreavers, but it was clear that he was chaffing under the leash of this human lord, "I will consider your offer, warlock," the Warchief said, "but until that time, you can prove yourselves by eliminating the dwarves and their elemental allies that infest the lower regions of Blackrock Mountain, so that we have sole control of the fortress."

Draco could see the greed in the orc's eye. He knew the power of warlocks, and wanted to get something more out of their bargain, but it was a simple task to eliminate their enemies. "It will be done, Warchief, as you command." Nobu'tan said, bowing before him in false submission, "Just have us led to the beginning of the dwarves dominion and we shall eliminate them forthwith."

The orc's eye was brimming with anticipation at the willingness of Nobu'tan and their faction for something that, clearly, had been more than difficult for him and his own forces. "I will send several warriors to escort you and whomever you take with you to fight the dwarves at the earliest opportunity."

"We will be with our clan until that time, Warchief, settling in for the moment." Nobu'tan said finally, concealing the smile that Draco could clearly sense from his friend.

They turned and departed, quickly locating their forces, which had set up several of their magical tents, not that the orcs needed to know that, the illusions to keep them unsuspectingly normal from the outside well placed and maintained. Teg'Ramm and the other ogres from earth were looking interestedly at their fellows from the Horde itself, and Draco could tell that the ogre mage wanted badly to connect to others of their kind, and see what differences there could be between them.

"We should select a specific group to take the lead into the dwarven section of the mountain," Nobu'tan said, once they were safely within the lavish space of his wizarding tent, procured during the invasion of earth from the Legion for their use once returning to Azeroth.

"The tunnels ought to be small, so it will be difficult for large creature like our ogres to enter, so unless we can fit them we should let them stay this one out." Blaise suggested.

"Teg'Ramm especially will not like that," Yaxley countered.

"We will decide on Teg'Ramm when we arrive at the entrance to the dwarven areas in the mountain," Nobu'tan reasoned as a middle ground, "but I definitely want several of our goblin allies, as they will know tunnels and mines far better than any of us."

Together they spent several hours hashing out who they would bring, and why, inevitably figuring out a round forty of their members to bring, if they were bringing Teg'Ramm and two of his ogre mage brethren.

With those three, the main council of the Black Harvest would join them, as well as the Death Knight Voldemort. Edgran and nine of his Fel Centaur would be of great assistance to them. The leader of the Fel Veela, a harsh woman named Aisha, who had taken the title of Feltalon for herself, demanded that her people be represented as well. She herself and nine of her people insisted their presence in the fight ahead, and finally eight of the trained goblins from Gringotts would lead them through the weaving tunnels, adding their magic and martial prowess to the lot.

Luckily they had done such planning as soon as they could, because Rend's messengers came almost the moment that they had finished, beckoning them to move out toward the mountain with what forces that they chosen to accompany them.

Thus they made their way toward the sloping ramp of the bleak mountain, and Draco could sense eyes watching their band as they approached, from somewhere high above. It was unnerving, but soon they passed into the gaping halls of the mountain fortress, and the sensation departed.

It turned out that the mountain was more than large enough for even their tallest ogres, and Teg'Ramm and his fellows were to join them for a round forty fighters, clambering down the massive chains that led to a central pillar of stone, even as the orcs guided them to the lowest levels of the central shaft of the mountain, where the chambers to the very roots were open for their entrance.

"I want a vanguard formation," Nobu'tan ordered, arranging their forces with warriors and those skilled with bow toward the front, while their caster remained in the center, Voldemort and the ogres bringing up the rear un case they were flanked.

The orcs left them once they were in the correct passage, and soon all was silent and dark aside from the magical lights that they themselves had created. "These dwarves are known as the Dark Iron," Nobu'tan explained, from some of the details that he knew form long before, "they are known for their setting of ambushes, and their hatred of all outsiders. I can expect nothing more than a bloodbath resulting from this, but try to capture a few at first, so that we might have some intelligence of what we are heading into."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm, from the rear of their formation, spotted the movement first. Shadows were gathering from several off shooting passages that they formation passed, which soon enough erupted with small, dark skinned or graying dwarves, angry and wielding weapons of a near black colored metal.

"Defend yourselves!" Teg bellowed, even as Ramm took control of their body, whirling around to strike the nearest group of dwarves with a powerful two-handed swing of his staff. The group of three sword wielding creatures went flying from the strike, even as Teg took back one hand to ignite destructive Fel flames and hurl the sphere into another grouping of their attackers.

All around the group of forty, chaos erupted as more dwarves sprang from every side, and the battle began in earnest. Fel and arcane magic flew in all directions, while blade, and in many cases the talons of the Fel Veela, slashed outward, but the Stormreavers did not break their formation, keeping their leaders centered in the circle of their protection.

Teg'Ramm spied that even the former enemy of Nobu'tan, the Death Knight known as Voldemort, had become a whirlwind of death, causing destruction among the ranks of their foes with both a blade he took from the dead, as well as the jeweled scepter that preserved his unlife.

The dead rose as the necromantic energies of the vile sorcerer wove through them, reinforcing their flank with expendable bodies of their former enemies in order to absorb attacks from their still living foes.

Demons flowed from the center of their grouping, where the warlocks were kept, and even healing magic from the goblin priests and shaman came out in torrents, mending what wounds the frontline fighters received from the hands and weapons of the dwarves.

"Press forward, attack!" Nobu'tan shouted, and as one the column began to move, forcefully shoving back the tide of dwarves in the direction of their lairs deep under the mountain, even as they left a trail of death behind them.

Soon they pressed through a rough mining section, where many more foes were seen fleeing from their weapons, probably to enforce a better strategic area further ahead, but they were no match for the power that the Stormreavers brought to bear in arms or magic.

A long bride was suspended over a funnel of lava, and rank upon rank of the short creatures were present, the front lines with spear and shield, while archers and gunners were behind, aiming their projectile weapons over the heads and shoulders of their fellows.

"You will go no further, orc swine!" yelled a dwarf from the rear of the shield wall, presumable some sort of general or other leader, "You can turn tail and run back to your precious dragon if you like, or fall upon our blades, but you will not take the mountain!"

The dwarves all yelled their battle cries in agreement, to which Nobu'tan strode through their column to see the very front of the enemy formation.

"You fools know not with whom you meddle. I am Darkness Incarnate, and I will not be denied!" the warlock bellowed, gathering visually the power of the Fel to him, opening horrendous portals all around and summoning a host of Legion Demons to their aid. Infernals and Felguards took to the field, charging ahead of their main force, with Edgran and his warriors and archers thundering in their wake. Teg'Ramm yelled at his fellow ogre magi, and they ran onward, allowing their toughened hides to absorb what projectiles made it through the first ranks of their charge, firing shadow and flame before them.

The demons struck the lines of the dwarves with the weight of a hammer upon the anvil, staggering their lines but not breaking it. That was the job of the Fel Centaur, who roared their hatred upon all foes of their master as they crashed through the shield wall, cruel blades and heavy hammers falling upon the dwarves in blood frenzy.

Roaring in delight of the death, Teg'Ramm and the other ogres channeled their power to stir the bloodlust of their kind in many of their fighters, signaling for the rest of the column to charge the line, the bridge trembling with the weight of so many stampeding feet over it.

The dwarf lines broke at the onslaught, their leader disappearing in the chaos of their advance. The Stormreavers were undaunted by the weapons of the Dwarves, which in comparison to their might and magic were rather crude and not terribly powerful.

Blood ran across the stones as they routed the last pockets of resistance, sending the fools flying backward into their halls beyond the bridge, screaming for reinforcements as they ran from them.

Nobu'tan signaled for them to not pursue, and the group of forty waited for their orders. "The path ahead splits, and honeycombs for miles under the mountains," he explained. "I do not want a single dwarf to escape this net, so we will need to split our group to check every nook and cranny for their kind, and eliminate them."

Then, turning to the entrance they had just won, Nobu'tan lifted both hands, summoning great pillars of Fel rock from the ground in cruel spikes, and summoning demons to guard their new gates. "Any dwarf that comes this way," he instructed the demons, "you will slay them; none get through until I return and lower the walls, understood?"

The demons grunted in their language, clearly irritated to have such orders, but bound to obey their master.

"Lucius, take a group and go down the left passage," Nobu'tan instructed, gesturing at an iron set of bars to in that direction, with a hastily locked gate, "I will take another group and press on ahead, hopefully we will make sure that no one gets too much of their manpower down upon them until we reach the very bottom, where their leaders no doubt quiver in fear of our arrival."

"As you wish, Chieftain…" Lucius replied, which surprised Teg'Ramm that all had quickly accepted the change of their faction's name. Even as they stood together, upon the brink of their first operation, Teg'Ramm realized that they indeed were more than a hastily united group of warriors and warlocks. They had become a close knit clan just as deadly as any of the orcs above on the surface. They were now the Stormreaver Clan, in truth, and Nobu'tan was their Chieftain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius was pleased that Nobu'tan continued to turn to him in situations like now, when a separation of their forces was in order. In this matter of eliminating the dwarves in their own kingdom, dividing and conquering was indeed the best plan.

Taking the left hand path through the metal gate, which was a strange form of metal that the Goblins, formerly of Gringotts, were keenly interested in and took long moments to examine. Beyond it, there was a pair of strange creatures moving about, comprised completely of fire and in a shape very similar to the Voidwalkers that Lucius was familiar with.

Still, they died easily enough with their force of twenty focusing one at a time, leaving large metal bracers that crashed to the cave floor, still smoking and red hot. Beyond them the passage opened up once again to a high vaulted causeway, and a road that seemed to lead deeper into the mountain. Armor dwarves were everywhere, along with captains and hounds.

"They seem to be preparing to launch their own attack on the rest of the mountain," Lucius mused with the only other member of the Council in his group, Theodore Nott. The young man nodded in agreement with Lucius' assessment, having studied tactics in great detail prior to their removal from earth.

It was a simple task to rearrange their own forces for the inevitable battle that was about to commence, the heavily armored or toughened ones in the front, while the mages, warlocks, and those with healing magic remained in the back.

It didn't take long for the dwarves to realize that they were being observed, and in groups of platoons they started to rush their line, but the Stormreavers were more than ready for anything that the dwarves could throw at them. What did cause Lucius pause at first was when the captains of the dwarven regiments would call upon powerful holy magic to shield themselves for a time, prevent them from dying until their concentrations was inevitably broken.

While undoubtedly a useful ability, it was little more than a nuisance in the face of their superior tactics and skills. In the end, the remainder of the Dark Iron warriors had to flee, disappearing through a gate far to the right of the Stormreaver's entrance tunnel.

From the left however, a bellowing roar heralded a rumble beneath their feet, even as a massive molten creature approached. Lucius would have called it some sort of giant, but the dark stone face was streamed with lava as though the molten rock was its lifeblood.

Sending the Death Knight formerly known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, as well as those others that would be able to withstand the fiery attacks of the giant, Lucius called upon the power of shadows to hinder and weaken the giant's strikes, even as bubbles of animated fire started to explode into being, spreading their heat and flame in all directions as they appeared.

Despite appearances, the giant wasn't particular strong or difficult for them to take down, and Lucius observed as their forces inspected the large trove of items that the giant had with him, which fell to the ground with a clatter when the giant was slain.

Among many scraps of metal and powdered residue, there were only four items and any magic power or worth noting. A Cuisse etched with what looked like burns from lava were given to Voldemort, who took them ungratefully but accepted the fact that he would likely be on the front lines more often than not. There was a pair of mace-like hammers, one that was a simple warhammer, and a larger two-handed weapon that surged with magma when swung. The smaller hammer was given to the one warrior centaur with them, while the larger, two-handed weapon was given to their ogre mage, who easily wielded the weapon with no difficulty.

Finally, there was a cloth sash that was embroidered with what appeared to be flames and was greatly magical. Lucius took this himself, and immediately felt the boon of power gifted to him just by wearing the item.

If Lucius had not been convinced of the greater magical nature of Azeroth over their old earth before, this would greatly aid in the argument. It was a sensation that was quite different than anything he recalled from their old world. Enchanted items were more or less only made to do something upon command, not necessarily to enhance the wielder or wearer of the item.

Beyond the direction where the giant had come from, Lucius could tell that the passage dead ended in a solid wall, carved with a mosaic of the dwarves and their achievements, depicting primarily one larger than the rest holding up some sort of glowing jewel.

It was typical that such creatures treasured the jewels of the earth, but he was intrigued by the concept that they would value one particular gem over all others, enough to honor the event of finding or shaping the jewel.

That left two options, either to backtrack to a small side passage that they had ignored while fighting the fire elementals leading to this massive road, or to follow the dwarf soldiers that had fled and see what lay beyond them. From his guess, the previous side path was less important, and would be covered by Nobu'tan's group, as he could see that it proceeded onward to the large open area that was in the same direction that their Chieftain's force was heading for.

"We proceed onward," Lucius declared, gesturing toward the massive gate. The goblins seemed to be the ones that were most disappointed to depart so soon, as they had been gleefully picking over the body of the fallen giant.

It took some time to tear them away from the corpse, but in the end Lucius had full control over his forces once more, and they started to cautiously make their way to the massive wall of stone, which seemed to be a sort of seal for the heat from within. If Lucius were to guess, it would have to be that there was some sort of forge beyond, deep in the center of the mountain.

Ingenious planning and use of the mountain, but still an irritant for their cause, as it meant that there could be tunnel extended for miles in all directions as the dwarves sought after metals and gems for their craft.

Beyond the rather narrow opening in what appeared at first to be a solid stone wall, but once on the other side revealed that it was actually a massive gate, was an ever narrowing passage, flanked by several more fire elementals. Effective planning and their strategies of luring only a few through the gate at a time kept the elementals from gaining any upper hand however, and soon Lucius and his group of twenty were within, staring at the central area of the mountain.

On a small platform, with a massive fire elemental that seemed drastically different from the previous ones they had dispatched, sat a hulking black anvil, seemingly suspended on the section of stone floor over a river of magma far below, with ventilation sections on all sides.

Engaging the massive elemental on the small platform seemed most unwise, so Lucius convinced their one ogre mage to go and antagonize the creature to pursuing it back to their group on much more secure ground.

His suspicions were confirmed, when the massive elemental put up quiet a difficult fight, sending out waves of flame that physically shunted back anyone near to it, but their goblin allies were hard at work mending their wounds as they battled the flaming creature until it was but embers.

By the Anvil there was a small pile of armor, four sets of bracers made from various materials, each seemingly just finished with whatever mending that they had been undergoing. Curious; however, were that of the four sets, only two were comprised completely of metal, while the thirds was studded leather and the last was cloth with thin metal wiring woven into it.

The craft of the dwarves here was truly marvelous, but their Goblin allies refused to accept any of the items, so Lucius divided them out to those who could wear them effectively. Voldemort got a set that were solid metal plates, while a Centaur archer received some that had more of a scale build to them. The stealthiest of the Veela received the studded leather, and the cloth wrist wraps went to Theodore Nott, who had done much in aiding their battle thus far with supplementing their forces with demons at every opportunity.

There was another passage beyond the massive anvil, and Lucius was sure that they ought to proceed further on, making sure that nothing snuck around them. Whether Nobu'tan and his group were doing as well in their progress as Lucius, the man did not know, but nevertheless, they had a mission to complete, and standing around waiting did nothing to further that goal.

The next area however, caused even him to pause. A long ramp way, which spiraled up a floor, was carved out of the solid walls of the chamber, and in pockets all along the walls of the room were more dwarves, all hard at work chiseling and sculpting stone effigies of their people, except that the statues were easily five to seven times larger than the dwarves themselves. That was not what had stopped Lucius in his tracks however, it was the fact that the statues moved on their own, turning to gaze sightlessly at their approach, and immediately lumbering toward them, fists high.


	55. C54: Blackrock Depths

**I am thoroughly pleased with the reception of the previous chapter. I was somewhat concerned that there might be too much detail in these chapters, but you've all proven my fears as completely unfounded. I thank you all! and Please, R &R, and enjoy the next chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty Four**

 **Blackrock Depths**

Nobu'tan barely needed to set foot toward the next section of the mines, which was filled with more dwarves, as well as a large elemental of dark stone that moved of its own volition. The warriors of his Fel Centaur, along with Teg'Ramm and his ogre brother took to the front, the ogre magi using their abilities to draw rank and file soldiers and their hounds to the waiting grasp of their magic user, slaughtering them just out of sight of the rest of the Dark Iron forces.

Meanwhile, Aisha Feltalon and her four fellow Fel Veela had run out of patience, and charged ahead, encountering and attacking the massive earth elemental, and while they seemed to have a bit of difficulty, they were handling it themselves while Nobu'tan and the others cleared the rest of the large chamber.

Even as the elemental crumbled to dust, leaving a small cache of items, which Nobu'tan quick appraised as magical and distributed to his forces, before they turned to address the many passages that led off from the round chamber. Aside from the one they entered from, there were five different directions for them to go, but with so many warlocks, Nobu'tan refused to leave any rout unexplored.

A fleet of conjured eyes of Kil'rogg were sent out in all directions, exploring the routes for the ones they ought to take next.

Luckily for them, it seemed that one of the passages led back to where Lucius had gone, aside from a small locked door that they could ignore for the time being, but Nobu'tan had demons sent there as guards to make sure dwarves did not try to sneak out through it. Three other passages all led to the same section of a sort-of prison block, while the last led off onto another area altogether.

Choosing to make sure they had no option for being flanked, Nobu'tan directed his forces toward the three passages of the prison block, having portions of them go through each of the three passages, clearing out room after room, freeing and taking what prisoners there were and slaughtering the guards ruthlessly.

Nobu'tan meanwhile, took a portion and went into the middle passage, which seemed to be the main contingent of guards and supplies, which were liberated for the Horde, and only at the end of the passage did Nobu'tan come upon his first surprise.

Along with the dwarves of the Dark Iron there were several people of various other races, all clothed in purple and speaking with a human female, which seemed to be their leader. Even as Nobu'tan signaled for his forces to attack, the woman pointed at them and yelled, "For the Hour of Twilight, attack Twilight Hammer!"

It made no sense to Nobu'tan. He knew the Twilight Hammer Clan, ruled by the infamous Cho'Gall, ogre mage servant of Gul'dan, but they were an orc and ogre clan of the Horde, not some grouping of all races and species that went about as they would.

The indignity of the falsehood before his face filled Nobu'tan with rage. "Eliminate these pretenders!" he roared, hurling a bolt of chaos at the offending human female, who raised a shield, just barely managing to protect herself from the worst of the attack, but still sending the fool flying backward as her allies ran to engage Nobu'tan's forces.

It might have been a fair fight, if not for the rest of his twenty warriors converging from the rear entrance to the chamber, and flanking the Dark Iron dwarves and their strange allies. After that it was a simple matter to route them all, and Nobu'tan fumed over the symbols on the various strange creatures as his force took anything of value and spread out the magical items among themselves.

The hammer symbol was clear as day upon their robes and other items, and it infuriated Nobu'tan to learn of what had occurred. "What has happened to this world while I was gone…" Nobu'tan muttered to himself, dark thoughts taking him to far distant places and older times.

"My Lord," Teg'Ramm said, approaching from behind where Nobu'tan stood. "We must move on."

Tearing his eyes from the symbol and his mind from its brooding, Nobu'tan closed his eyes, "Yes," he said slowly, returning to the present, "Yes, we have to look to the future, bring the prisoners that we freed to me, I will speak to them now."

"Yes Master," the ogre mage replied, signaling for the three freed prisoners of the Dark Iron dwarves to be brought forward.

Turning his gaze upon them, Nobu'tan could tell the hatred that surged through the human that was among them. The dwarf was cautious and the final prisoner, an orc, seemed the most comfortable, yet Nobu'tan could tell that this orc was no ally of Rend and his Horde.

"Speak," Nobu'tan commanded, "who are you all, and how did you come to be here?"

The three prisoners looked between each other as Nobu'tan repeated the command in the orc and human languages, before the orc was the first to step forward, "I am Commander Gor'shak, of the Kargath Expeditionary Forces, on orders from the Warchief to gather intelligence on the Dark Irons and their plans."

The name Kargath was somewhat familiar to Nobu'tan, but he suspected that the Warchief that the orc represented was not Rend Blackhand, but another. "Who leads the Horde then?" Nobu'tan asked, knowing that the question would cause the other orc to be confused, but that was fine. He wasn't sure still whether to allow these to live.

"Warchief Thrall of course, who else would be the leader of Orgrimmar?" Gor'shak replied, confused.

"I see," Nobu'tan, turning to the human and the dwarf, "and you?" he said, switching to the common of the Alliance.

The human glared back, but spoke regardless, "Marshal Windsor, of Stormwind, and that's all you'll get out of me green-skinned monster, my mission is for the ears of the King of Stormwind alone."

Nobu'tan didn't reply to the taunts or the anger, merely raised a hand and drew the life essence from the rebellious human, making him fall to the ground screaming. Only when he had fallen silent and lay there quivering did he turn to the dwarf, "and finally you." He said, encouraging the dwarf to speak.

Of the three, the Dwarf had the most to say. Kharan Mighthammer, as his name was, had been the captain of an elite guard for Moria Bronzebeard, daughter of the King of Ironforge, who had been on her way to Lakeshire on a relief mission and to reinforce their alliance between Humans and Dwarves, before they were waylaid by Dark Irons.

The last that the dwarf knew about the princess was that she was under a spell of the Dark Iron Emperor, and stood by his side in the deepest halls of the mountain.

Only once he understood all that this implied, Nobu'tan had his forces take the orc commander with them, as he had far more questions for him regarding this other Horde, and ordered the dwarf and human killed.

Returning quickly to the large central area, Nobu'tan knew that there was only one direction left for them to go, aside from the door that he had being watched. If they needed to backtrack to the door, then so be it.

More elementals lay in the final passage, which dead ended aside from a doorway to a side chamber. Once they were eliminated, Nobu'tan sent an eye into the room, which seemed to be some sort of arena ring, but all gates from it were locked.

"I sense that it must be a trap," Draco said, looking ahead at the entrance to the arena, "but it also appears that we lack any other choice for the time being."

"I agree," Nobu'tan said as he cancelled the spell, his vision returning rather jarringly to his body.

They started forward into the arena. As they expected, the portcullis that covered the doorway they entered slammed shut behind them, even as a dwarf in robes appeared at the far side of the arena in a flash of flames.

"Intruders!" the dwarf shouted, "you have been judged by this people, and found guilty of seeking to kill our Emperor!"

From above, where there were gathered a multitude of Dark Iron Dwarves, yells and oaths of vengeance were hurled down at them.

The dwarf in the arena with them continued, "I, High Justice Grimstone, have passed judgment, and deemed that you are worthy of death! Release the beasts!" he commanded, before pointing at the small gates around the ring, whose gates flashed with sparks and flew upward, unleashing a torrent of overgrown bats, scorpions, disgusting looking worms, and sentient looking slimes that rushed them from all sides.

The forces of the Stormreavers fanned out, countering the mad rush of the beasts and agitated creatures, finding them simple foes to slaughter, and Nobu'tan almost wondered if that was truly the best that the Dark iron Dwarves had to throw at them.

The masses overhead were shouting and screaming for their deaths, angry that their precious execution was not going as they had planned, and High Justice Grimstone peered over the side of the arena, "Do not count yourselves lucky, fools, as this was only the begging of what we have in store." Another blast of fire opened the remaining cages, and six much larger creatures appeared.

The orc and two-headed ogre that emerged from one side halted in their charge up to fight them, spotting their equally mixed group and the fellows that were members of the Stormreavers, but the others, consisting of a massive spider, as well as another spider-like creature, and finally a werewolf of a sort kept charging, meeting the weapons of the assorted force of Nobu'tan head on.

Aisha Feltalon was first to leap at their foes, screeching as flames leapt from her clawed hands, scorching the fur of the werewolf and spearheading their advance to separating the three creatures from each other, eliminating them one at a time while they had little opportunity to support their attacks.

The crowd hated them, and roared for their blood, but the work of their priest and shaman was more than enough to cover any wounds that they received, and Grimstone appeared yet again. "Enough of this!" he bellowed, silencing the crowd, which seemed to be holding their collective breath in anticipation, "Theldren, deal with these meddlers!" the dwarf yelled, to a din of cheering and screaming as the last door of the arena opened, admitting a Dark Iron Dwarf in heavy armor, surrounded by eight other companions of mixed races.

Those of Gringotts hissed in fury as they spotted that one indeed was a goblin, similar to them but leaner and more wild-appearing. "I crush weaklings like you every day! Bring it on!" the dwarf taunted boastfully, charging at them with his allies in tow.

Four out of the group stopped short, channeling magic to attempt to support their frontline forces, and Nobu'tan conjured a shield of shadows to block the hailstorm of ice that spewed forth from what looked like a walking corpse of some human female, as well as a sphere of fire that a strange, pig-like creature had hurled at him.

Battle was joined, the dwarf, a gnome ally of his, as well as a centaur wielding a bow and commanding the loyalty of a hyena charged the front, with another dog-like creature followed closely, trying to flank anyone that got separated from the rest of them.

Locked in a duel of will with the two casters, Nobu'tan was unable to do much in the way of assist or even looking toward the rest of the battle, as he traded Arcane and Fel magic with the ice and fire of his two opponents.

These mages had been fighting together for a long time, he could tell, as their movements and tactics showed that they would be at a disadvantage separated, and his preyed upon that as much as he could, shielding the attacks of one to allow him time to be on the offensive against the other. Several demons leapt out of portals at his command, hounding the pig creature while he turned upon the corpse, unleashing the power of Fel flames to melt and nullify her icy magic, before Nobu'tan cause an eruption of fire to consume her from beneath the stone floor.

It seemed that even in death, this one could feel pain, if her screams as she burned alive were anything to judge by. The pig creature became enraged, flinging molten boulders in all directions, even as a strange, blueish troll stayed in the far back and kept the pig fighting with healing magic.

Channeling his demonic power through his body, Nobu'tan gave in to the rage and transformed into his demonic form, leaping through the air at the troll, catching the gangly creature hard in the chest with a hoof before it could dodge out of the way. The troll was pinned to the stone floor, ribcage probably crushed from the weight of Nobu'tan's new form as he turned, deflecting a hastily cast spell from the pig humanoid, and casually tossing powerful chaotic magic from his hands at the creature, sending it running, squealing in fear.

That was when the totem appeared in his vision, and Nobu'tan staggered as the blunt force of the massive lump of carved wood connected with his horned head. A minotaur, clad in shamanistic robes and wielding the massive tree trunk-like weapon, raised it again, but Nobu'tan saw it coming and caught the weapon in a clawed hand, Felflame scorching the wood where he touched the relic.

With his strength magnified by the transformation, he hurled the massive creature backward, knocking it over and giving him time to spew flames at the troll, ending its pitiful life. Bolts of lightning from the minotaur, as well as fire from the pig man behind him were speeding toward his position as Nobu'tan leaped high into the air, almost clearing the lip of the ring where Grimstone and the spectators were gathered, and landing heavily behind the lines of the Stormreavers, allowing the metamorphosis to fade and resting a moment from the spell of dizziness that overcame him from the blunt trauma of the totem striking him.

The goblin priest rushed to his side, small claw planted gently to his head, and a flash of healing light reducing the swelling that would have come in an instant. Nobu'tan nodded his thanks, before turning to oversee the remainder of the battle.

The goblin was surrounded by those of Gringotts, and it seemed that all sense of combat had devolved to a mass of ear pulling and wrestling as they attempted to capture their Azerothian counterpart without killing him. Meanwhile, the centaur and its canine companion had been felled by a volley of arrows.

The dwarf was still valiantly fighting with both Teg'Ramm and Aisha, while demons had already torn both the gnome and the walking corpse limb from limb, but Nobu'tan was focused on the massive minotaur, seeking revenge for the insulting blow he had received. The creature had thrown down several totems into the ground, enhancing the abilities of its allies, but Nobu'tan smirked as the Fel built up within him. The shamanistic creature had no chance of seeing the bolts of deadly energy coming for it until it was too late, its fur being charred black as the demonic magic engulfed it.

The beast flew back into the stone wall with a sickening crunching sound, and slid to the ground with a blood trail on the wall, moving no more and head hanging at an odd angle. Next to fall was the dog-like creature wielding daggers, as it attempted to flank Teg'Ramm, only to meet the

Other ogre mage who had been imprisoned by the dwarves, whom had stood aside from the current battle, acting now by bringing his staff down and skewered the creature through the middle, lifting it bodily from the ground and throwing it violently to the ground, where it snarled and whimpered as it bled out.

The pig man was Nobu'tan next target, and a pair of demons erupted from his summons, charging the mage with axes raised, and the creature had only time to squeal in fear before it was violent hewn apart by the Fel axes of the soldier demons, leaving the dwarf alone with Aisha at last.

The dwarves above were screaming in horror at the bloodbath, but the dwarf warrior only roared in anger and rage, spinning like mad as he attempted to wield his own axe like a tornado, cleaving demons as they tried to rush him, but Aisha flew into the air on her wing-like arms, razor talons swiping at the dwarf's head, sending a spurt of blood as she gouged one of the short man's eyes out.

He screamed in pain and rage, even as Teg'Ramm followed up the diving attack with a powerful overhand strike, smashing the dwarf into the ground with his mace-like club of steel, visibly breaking the man's back and leaving him in a ruined heap on the stone ground.

The dwarves above, along with Grimstone, fled in all direction, knowing that their fighters had been finished, and while the goblins of their group started to interrogate their own that they had captured, Nobu'tan turned to the orc and ogre that had joined them in the heat of battle, playing parts both obvious and subtle in the subsequent battle with the gladiators.

"I am Gorosh, great warlock," the orc said, kneeling before Nobu'tan, "and he is Ok'thor, and we were once slaves of the Dark Irons, but we will gladly serve you in exchange for our freedom from this mountain."

"I will gladly accept you allegiance, Gorosh, and yours Ok'thor," Nobu'tan said, smirking as the ogre mage bowed respectfully to him as well. Gratitude could be just as great a means of enslavement as any fetter or bond. "We seek to eliminate the Dark Iron presence in the mountain, and their Emperor, so that the Horde can claim the mountain once more for their fortress."

The orc took his daggers, and laid them at the feet of the orc-raised human, "I will serve you, in life and in death, for your rescue of my life in this prison. But tell me, what are you called great Lord," the orc asked, looking pleadingly up at Nobu'tan.

"Nobu'tan, chieftain of the Stormreaver clan of the Horde!" the warlock replied, revealing the symbol upon his tabard, and noticing that far in the back, Gor'shak was looking rather uncomfortable with the pronouncement. Perhaps that orc was realizing just what he had gotten involved in and was reconsidering his position, but it was far too late for that now.

"Come, we must push on while we have the upper hand." Nobu'tan said after a moment, and turned to where Teg'Ramm and the other ogre mage that came from earth had forcefully raised the last gate blocking their path, allowing them to move on ahead.

"Wherever you lead, I will follow, Lord Nobu'tan," Gorosh replied, taking up his weapons and rising to his feet.

Nobu'tan smirked as he turned to proceed. It was good to have those ready and willing to throw their lives away for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort was incensed that he now had to follow Lucius' commands, but still, as he plunged ahead to slaughter another group of dwarves, he had a feeling that he would still be massively out of place were he in charge of this group. The mountain was a strange and almost illogical network of tunnels and hallways, and he wouldn't have had Lucius' patience to work with the goblins to keep them moving in an orderly fashion.

The battle with the massive golems and their dwarven constructors had gone rather wild toward the end, when the largest of the constructs had rushed at them, sweeping allies aside and nearly sending Voldemort himself plunging into a seeming endless chasm. True, he would have survived, the jeweled scepter in his hand would see to that, but it would have been most irritating to try and get back to the group afterward.

The former Dark Lord took great pleasure in slowly slaughtering the chief of these architects, one Fineous Darkvire, and raising his stunted corpse as a servant to lead the way before them. Voldemort was growing ever more comfortable with his new set of dark magic and skills, and it was almost second nature to him now to channel power through his scepter, or even fight with the sword he had taken from an enemy some while ago. The plate armor he was given helped protect his corpse-like body from any hindering wounds, but it seemed a bit bulky for him. In due time he would see about what options he had on improving it to fit him better, but for now it served its purpose.

That case was proven yet again as another foolish dwarf rushed at him, as the group moved toward what seemed to be a heavily defended area of the mountain, overlooking the great black anvil that they had previous cleared. The dwarf's iron weapon shattered on the enchanted armor that Voldemort wore, and the Dark Lord took the advantage to place a cold hand on the short creature, channeling dark magic through the body and causing it to seize up and wither before him.

As they pressed toward the newest section, Voldemort took the opportunity to observe what lay ahead, and immediately decided that he had gone with the better group. The next chamber's walls were lined with vaults, while the ceiling was supported by four stone statues of dwarves. A dwarf mage stood alone with a hound in the room, as a final defense for clearly the wealth of the mountain, gripping a staff that shone with Arcane magic.

"You shall go no further, invaders!" the dwarf demanded, already conjuring frost magic in his free hand, "Verek, attack!" he ordered, and the hound leapt forward.

Moving with incredible speed, after a quick enchantment, Voldemort imposed himself before the charging canine, and swing sword and scepter, taking out the dog's legs and slashing its neck viciously, and it collapsed to the ground, heaving for breath as it bled out.

The Dark Lord stalked forward, a grin splitting his dead lips as he gaze down at the last defender of this place. Voldemort was excited because he could sense the magic of this place, and the strength of something that lay within these vaults, something beyond worth that was powerful.

The icy blasts did little to faze him as he approached, already cold as death, and closed distance with the mage. The staff was easily parried as it swung at him, and the short dwarf sword that he had taken was planted in the dwarf's body, before Voldemort moved on, allowing his allies to finish off the fatally wounded foe.

A quick inspection told him that all the vaults were locked and sealed with magic, but he wasn't about to wait and see if they could locate the key, or keys, and stretched out his hand, the other grasping the scepter tightly. Pulses of dark magic expanded outward, corroding the dark metal of the vaults until they crumbled, laying bear the gold and chests of jewels that lay within.

Just then, an alarm blared out, and another dwarf came into sight behind them, carrying a large mace, just as the four statues sprang to life. "You will not plunder our vaults, thieves!" the dwarf yelled, and Voldemort had to dodge as one of the statues tried to crush him under a massive hand.

Those at the rear of their force dealt with the dwarf, and Voldemort, along with an ogre mage and Lucius turned their attention on the statues. Lucius called forth several demons to aide them, while he ogre collided bodily with one of the golems, wrestling with the animated stone.

Voldemort beckoned to the dark magic he was gifted in, calling upon the rot and decay of time, and blasted two more of the statues with the vile magic. Slowly they started to crumble, as though time advanced hundreds of years for them, before finally collapsing into powder. Many of his other abilities were useless against such inanimate objects, so Voldemort turned and fired several powerful spells back at the dwarf, relishing the screams as they connected with their intended target.

Wrenching at the life force that he sensed, Voldemort forcefully dragged the small humanoid toward him, through the weapons and fists of his allies, and Voldemort seized a sword that the guard of the vaults had dropped, ready to do battle with the mace that the other wielded.

Metal on metal rang out as they battled, Voldemort relishing the opportunity to learn more martial skills as he weaved around the smaller person, slashing and stabbing while the unwieldy mace-user tried to strike him. The other golems crumbled in due time, and Voldemort saw that the others were waiting for him to finish playing with the creature so they could move on, and caught another attack from the mace with his weapon, deftly disarming the dwarf by throwing the mace aside with a flick of his sword.

Dropping the sword momentarily, he sent coils of death magic from his now free hand at the dwarf, causing the very life essence within the diminutive person to rupture, leeching it back into the corpse that served as the Dark Lord's vessel.

The dwarf met a painful and slow end, and a large chest clattered to the ground as he fell, only to be quickly opened by Voldemort upon his recovery of his new blade. The thing that he sensed of great power lay within.

Aside from several pieces of armor and a wand that radiated light, there was a smoking, blood red gem that glistened with suppressed power. Voldemort took this item, along with a small ring and a pair of plate mail bracers. But the gem he inspected closely, realizing very slowly the power that this item had.

While there were enchantments upon it, they were not the source of the power that he sensed. There was something else afoot here, a dire obsession that seemed to permeate from the mountain toward this gem, which seemed to almost pulse like a heartbeat within.

One of the goblins noticed what he held, and gasped in awe. "The heart of the mountain," the creature said, and Voldemort turned to look at him, seeking answers.

Another spoke however, explaining the question that Voldemort had, but that Lucius had vocalized. "Every mountain has one gem, found deep in its core that it valuable above all other things within it, that gathers power from the earth itself and beats like a literal heart. These gems have great power, although not many know how to access it. They are called the hearts of the mountain, and both dwarves and goblins alike recognize their value and importance."

"But what can be done with it?" Lucius persisted, and the goblin looked at him, as though Lucius himself had very little understanding.

"Contrary to what you might believe," mage Goblin said, offering a hand for the jewel, which Voldemort what very resistant to simply hand over, but the goblin waiting until the Death Knight consented, and the little green creature pulled it close and examined it with a critical eye, "Quite a lot can be done with this one gem. But that will need to be something we focus on when we are free, and not engaged with sacking this mountain."

Eagerly, Voldemort took back the Heart of the Mountain, placing it into his robes close to his chest, and they took their leave of the Vault, turning back toward the their errand of claiming the lowest regions of the mountain.

The next area that they approached, the sounds of battle were already in full swing, which increased their haste to reach the location, which appeared to be some sort of dormitory for the soldiers of the dwarves.

Rushing ahead of the others, the Dark Lord was in time to catch a dwarf as they attempted to stab another of Nobu'tan's party in the back with a longsword. A clawed hand from Voldemort and a blast of necromantic power shattered the stunted creature and sent it sprawling to the ground, even as the pair of groups reunited.

"So, one long loop then?" Nobu'tan said as he approached Voldemort and Lucius, who nodded in response.

"Good, there was one place we didn't investigate yet, which has to lead on ahead deeper into the city, and we liberated some allies…" the warlock explained, gesturing at another orc, ogre and goblin in their train.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was pleased that the entirety of their force was reunited, as he had worried about the loyalty of the new Death Knight, formerly the human named Voldemort. From a culture where the strongest ruled and you had to be on constant lookout for usurpers and those who'd challenge you, the ogre mage could tell at a glance that this one wanted to take Nobu'tan's place, magical binding to the warlock's life or not.

The honor of his oath drove Teg'Ramm, and he felt extremely uneasy when the rotting corpse was not near at hand to watch over and keep away from growing too near his lord. But for the time being the dead wizard was indeed useful, even as they slowly made their way toward the second level of the arena where they had fought so many of the Iron Dwarves' minions, and located a sight that seemed to once more enrage Nobu'tan.

More of the strangely clad people of many races, all gathered around one in particular, a large bovine creature that stood on two legs, channel fire in his hands and chanting to himself. "Vengeance for the Horde! Attack!" Nobu'tan cried, dashing several steps ahead and throwing powerful bolts of demonic and chaos magic at the assembled creatures, which scattered in a panic at the sudden onslaught.

Teg'Ramm could tell that these pathetic people would not be a match for their numbers nor their skill, but for the sake of their place in the Horde he obeyed, lumbering forward in a steady charge as he rammed one of the nearest creature, a gangly-looking thing with tusks and overly long arms, sending it sprawling to the stone floor, before the ogre stamped hard on the creatures neck, snapping it instantly.

All around, the bloodbath was nearing completion, as these fools had not the strength to withstand them for even a moment. Nobu'tan himself took personal action by grasping the horns of the dying leader and demanding answers of him in the orcish language, which Teg'Ramm was still in the process of learning, but from what he could tell, the bovine was not giving answers, so close to its own death.

In fact, the creature seemed to be pleased with its method of demise, ranting about some form of madness and that the end was near. The humans of their company just shook their heads at the inane ramblings, as though it was something they were familiar with from their culture, but for the ogre it was unknown.

Nobu'tan eventually kicked the creature away after it had died, and stormed toward the next chamber angrily, imps scampering to keep up with their master as he went. They entered into the upper part of the arena, which was devoid of all the spectators that had once jeered and screamed at them, which was a nice change of pace to not have to fight through one room at the least, but Teg'Ramm knew better than to lower his guard.

Hogwarts had taught that lesson to him painfully, even as he unconsciously felt the massive scar across his chest. It was a painful reminder of all the foolishness of his early days as a servant of Nobu'tan, and something that he would constantly have to live with. The pain from the scar, and the shame of his weakness that allowed it to happen served that purpose well.

The group of forty-three spilled into the next room with a vengeance, slaughtering the hapless guards that awaited them, and discovering that they had found the other side of the locked door they first encountered, as well as a massive devise that seemed to be a lock of some sort.

The goblins took their time to examine it, peering at it this way and that, getting on all fours to see beneath it, or carefully climbing to see what lay above.

"It is a winch to control the stone gate," one finally declared, gesturing out the small windows, where one could see the massive stone gate that Lucius had reported his group going through during their side of the scouring.

"We may as well close it, if only to prevent dwarves from escaping," Nobu'tan said, gesturing for the goblins to do so, which they obeyed with relish. It was clear to anyone that the deaths of these dwarves pleased the goblins greatly.

The locking mechanism was soon disengaged, and the winch was freely spinning, accompanied by a loud grinding noise as the gate slid shut, sealing the passage completely from passage. From his vantage point over the heads of his allies, Teg'Ramm could see the dwarves moving through the top part of the now sealed gates. "It seems," he stated, pointing to attract the attention of the others, "that closing that gate was the only way to proceed regardless."

Nobu'tan looked, before turning and quickly conjuring an eye of Kil'rogg, sending it through the corridors they had passed, telling them the route that they must take through the twisted corridors to reach the passage over the wall. "It is just as Teg'Ramm spotted," he affirmed, sending an affirmative nod to the ogre mage, which Teg'Ramm appreciated. "We will find that direction leading directly to their garrison, which will aid us in eliminated the majority of their resistance."

Without further debate, the massive force of the Stormreaver Clan set off, skirting toward a side corridor that otherwise would have been easily missed should they have not been looking for it, catching several Dark Iron Dwarves as they tried to establish barricades, and eliminating them in a hailstorm of projectiles both mundane and magical.

The resistance seemed to increase once they were on the other side, and it was just as Nobu'tan had seen. They had entered a heavily fortified garrison, and the soldiers were rallying to try and push them back. Not that they had much of a chance with all of the warlocks summoning demons to spearhead their charge into the main part of the garrison, backed up by the stampeding hooves of the Fel Centaur.

The floors ran quite red with the blood of the grim, grey-skinned dwarves, and even their General, who had valiantly put up a struggle and called for many more of their warriors to back up his defense, had fallen to their weapons and magic.

The fools who remained had fled once more, attempting the same strategy of retreating further into their mountain kingdom to try and escape or find another place of refuge to defend themselves from the might of the Stormreavers, but it was a futile effort.

Although, Teg'Ramm thought for a moment that they possibly would have trouble with the next section of the underground kingdom, when he spotted the many partially completed golems, and the architects working diligently to get them up and functional. The great stone automatons were particularly annoying, as they were heavily resistance to the majority of their magical support, which forced them to rely on the physical arms, which were few in number.

But through strategic chokepoints and careful planning, Nobu'tan saw them through it, funneling the golems into the narrow entryway to their chamber, and allowing the clan to focus them down one by one, until a literal wall of rubble prevented the dwarves from trying to advance upon them.

Then with a swift spell from their goblin shaman, the mound of gravel and stone became a weapon of their own, washing backwards like a rocky wave and trapping many of the dwarves as they attempted to flee once more, only for them to fall at the blades and talons of the Fel Veela as they pounced on the ensnared foes.

The tide of stone and dirt also served another purpose, as it hindered the movement of the largest golem that they had encountered yet, which stormed out of the rearmost room, fire pouring from one of its arms as it swung about madly trying to crush them all. During the ensuing chaos, a dwarf tried to escape out of the same room, and slink toward the right side and further into the mountain, but a well place blast of flame from Teg stopped him as Ramm took charge of fighting the golem, working in tandem with several of other ogres to seize it bodily and start to rip the enchanted stone apart.

Nobu'tan stepped forward when they had it armless and pinned to the ground, unleashing a torrent of demonic fire onto the golem's head, slowly melting even the magical stone into a worthless lump. Meanwhile their goblin allies had confronted the dwarf, which turned out to be the lead creator of these Dark Iron golems. The dwarf must not have been much of a fighter, as he was quickly slain, leaving yet another room free of the presence of these despicable dwarves.

As they were dividing the items of worth from this dwarf, Teg'Ramm was surprised that Nobu'tan turned to him and offered a magical ring that was taken from the body. "It will turn the attacks of your foes against them, to an extent," the warlock explained, and the ogre mage took it gladly, touched that he would be considered worthy for such an item, even when his hide and physical bulk was typically enough to see him through most of these skirmishes.

From on ahead, the next major building had the sounds of laughter and merriment echoing from within it, which puzzled many of them as they approached. "They have time yet to drink and be at ease when their mountain is half occupied by their enemies, and even more so when they themselves are being attacked?" Nobu'tan questioned aloud.

"Dwarves are not known for their sense of reason when it comes to when isn't a good time for strong drink," one of the goblins said scornfully with a shrug.

Teg'Ramm, among others, could tell that the goblins were looking forward to reshaping this mountain in their own image once the dwarves were eliminated, and their cruelty and vicious nature were showing in their haste and desire to wipe it clean of its former inhabitants.

"Well, so long as they are intoxicated and unawares, we ought to slay them all…" Nobu'tan said casually, gesturing for the stealthiest of their comrades to take the lead, and pinpoint specific targets to eliminate before the full fledged bar brawl started.

Aisha Feltalon gladly took her most cunning Veela forward, along with a few of the goblins, to scout ahead and make these assassinations, leaving the rest of them waiting for a few minutes while they did their work.

Soon enough, the single was sent, and in the midst of the dwarves' drinking, the attack began.


	56. C55: Thaurissan's Fall

**Many thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter. I greatly appreciate your thoughts and feelings regarding the direction of the story. Please, R &R and as always enjoy the next chapter!**

 **Chapter Fifty Five**

 **Thaurissan's Fall**

Lucius was suitably unimpressed with the fact that they were completely ignored as the large group of heavily armed warriors entered the brightly lit and raucous tavern in the middle of the mountain. The dwarves, all busy with their leisure and inebriated beyond comprehension, didn't even take note of their passage. It was a lack of security that was appalling to Lucius' sense of reason.

True, they weren't in reality unnoticed, as the even smaller proprietor in his wide wizard hat was watching them suspiciously, as well as a meandering succubus that was serving drinks to the patrons. The far door of the tavern was guarded by a jet black golem, roughly the same size as Teg'Ramm and looking as though it had been through many a dwarven bar fight.

"If we start anything my Lord, they will turn no us like a pack of wolves," Lucius said to Nobu'tan, noting the ice cold glare that the warlock was sending over the entire room.

"I know, but needs must, but first I want a drink and perhaps to figure out the best strategy," Nobu'tan replied, surprising Lucius that the young man actually wanted ale that was being served to dwarves, and was likely as strong as it could possibly be made.

"Have everyone spread out in uniform groups, and be ready for my signal," Nobu'tan instructed, before smiling broadly at the proprietor and striding toward the diminutive figure.

Lucius acted quickly, dividing their force up and making sure that they were in prime defensible locations all around the two storm tavern, for the event where things turned sour and they had to slaughter everything living in the building, and quite possibly a few of the nonliving automatons.

It didn't take terribly long, as almost as soon as Nobu'tan had his drink, a Dark Iron dwarf saddled up and started talking quite angrily to the warlock, drunk out of his mind of course, and the Warlock wasn't about to take any level of abuse from the likes of him.

The proprietor, clearing spotting the beginning of the largest bar fight ever, quickly jumped up onto the bar and yelled, waving his arms, "Phalanx, attack!"

Nobu'tan fired a powerful blast of fire at the large kegs of alcohol, setting them alight with a explosive result, and all the dwarves in the bar were suddenly snapped from their drunken stupors, and realize that they were surrounded by enemies.

Weapons were drawn from places even Lucius had not expected, and the dwarves ran like mad, trying to reach their spread our knots of warriors, who were more than ready to receive them.

Teg'Ramm bolted from Lucius' group, charging at the massive golem that was advancing on the proprietor and Nobu'tan, who were locked in a duel of dark energies. Apparently, as the succubus had implied, the owner of the tavern was also a warlock.

The ogre mage slammed heavily into the massive statue, sending the pair of them crashing into another massive keg of intoxicating liquid, and it flowed across the stone floor to mix with the blood of the dwarves as they were slaughtered in the madness that ensued.

Lucius lost sight of the pair in the struggle, but once the last dwarf had been put down like the animals they were, Lucius turned back and spotted Nobu'tan picking up the forgotten tankard that he had been drinking from, and downing the rest as Teg'Ramm loomed over the warlock, wrapping bandages delicately over the warlock's arm, almost as though mothering the human.

The door beyond the tavern had been smashed open as more dwarves had entered to try and stop the battle, but all that had succeeded in doing was opening the way for them to proceed. "Are you alright, my Lord?" Lucius asked, wondering just how inebriated Nobu'tan was, but the younger man waved off his concern.

"Our magical bodies are quite adept at processing this level of swill," he said, disgusted, "Although I wouldn't dare drink any more of it if not for the slight numbing effect it has for wounds. It was not the way I had hoped to cause this end, arguing with a dwarf over their swill that they call liquor, but there you have it…"

They moved on, taking a spare few items from several figures, all magical in nature, and the Goblins greedily plundered most of the coin from the fallen, eager to see how the composition of currency in this world compared to their own.

Lucius found that they had journeyed back to the same elevated ring overlooking the great black anvil, albeit they were on the far side from the vaults that his group had already plundered, heading toward yet another off-shooting passage they seemed to lead even deeper into the mountain.

Nobu'tan sent several eyes of Kil'rogg ahead of them, and said that it was a rather linear passageway to the next few chambers, and that they needs be getting closer to the location of the leader of these dwarves.

The very next room however, gave Lucius quite a surprise. Waiting for them, grasping a flaming trident and with a angry gleam in its eyes, was a creature he had never before laid his eyes upon. The beast seemed part serpentine, with bipedal arms and torso, but no legs, only a long tail and fiery tendrils from its equally snake-like head.

"You will go no further, by orders of Ragneros the Firelord." The creature hissed in the common tongue of Azeroth.

The goblin shaman took the lead, each of them conjuring the elements in their hands as they prepared for battle.

"You are fools to defy me!" the creature roared, waving it trident overhead and summoning elementals of fire from all corners of the room, which charged with the creature at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan leapt into action the moment that the servant of the elemental lord attacked, ordering their forces of demons to intercept and engage the smaller elementals that the serpent creature summoned, allowing their direct forces to quickly surround the berserk creature.

Clearly the servant of the Firelord was not accustomed to such aggressive behavior of its enemies, or rather was a fool for thinking that Nobu'tan was any less prepared to counter its pitiful elementals, as once beset upon by the Veela and Centaurs, it was slain in almost no time flat.

The circlet that the creature wore fell to the ground and rolled as the beast died, coming to a rest as Nobu'tan feet. Surprisingly, as he picked it up it burst into flames, but the fire did not burn his fingers, nor did he feel any heat from them whatsoever. The intimidation factor alone was what persuaded him to don the fiery headpiece, but Nobu'tan could sense that it was a magical amplifier as well, and would enhance his ability to channel spells of the same affinity.

The ringing of hammers on metal was heard from beyond, and Nobu'tan could only guess that the forges of the great mountain kingdom were ahead, where raw metal and ore was processed before being distributed throughout the area for various smiths and workings.

So close to the river of lava that seemed to run through the base of the mountain, it was clear that this was the purifying area for the ore, and Nobu'tan was not in the least ways surprised to find several dark colored golems hard at work monitoring the flows of the molten metal and rock as it poured in rivers far below their feet, visible through grates that released a great deal of heat.

There was one of the golems, however, which was pure white, like polished steel but with a bluish tint to it, which turned on them and started to attack. The multitude of dwarves that were present overseeing the work of the golems started to run from them, heading for the far side where a passage led beyond.

Once again the centaur were called forth to run down the dwarves, while Teg'Ramm and the ogre magi clashed and wrestled with the many golems, allowing the others to attack as they would. Nobu'tan remained rather aloof of this particular conflict, already thinking ahead to what he had seen through the eyes of Kil'rogg. Beyond this chamber there was a tomb chamber, and beyond that the mountain passage split, one side going down to the very bones of the mountain, while the other pressed on to the heart of the city, where he could only presume that the leader of these dwarves, their Emperor, was located.

He had no love left for the small creatures, and desired to take the mountain fully for himself, whether Rend was there to act as Warchief or not. So, he pressed on with several of his forces while the other finished those remaining in the forging room, eager to cross the tomb and set up guards at the split in the passage.

But to his great surprise, the door at the far end of the tomb had been shut and sealed, and as he entered with a limited group of the council of the Black Harvest, and their demonic servants, the door behind them also slammed shut, and one by one specters rose from the tombs, brandishing the weapons that they had used in life, and attacking with magic and steel.

Nobu'tan lacked time to care about what these undead demanded of them, respect or some other rot, which he had no care to do, and called forth a torrent of Felflame, amplified by his newly acquired magical equipment, and allowed the green torrents of demonic fire to flow freely from his hands, washing over the tombs and their deceased occupants, charring even the already blackened stone. The others took it upon themselves to channel their own magic, summoning demons and fling concentrated blasts of energy at their assailants.

It was almost a boring sight, to see the vengeful dead put down in such a brisk and efficient manner, that Nobu'tan almost wondered if they ought to not just level the entire subsection of the mountain and allow it to collapse on the dwarves, ending their kingdom in one fell swoop.

Alas that was not part of the agreement that he made with Rend, and if he wished the fortress to be useable afterward, he needed it to remain structurally sound, once the last ghost was banished back to the now thoroughly charred tome from whence it came, the pair of doors opened with a shuddering crash, and a small trove of items fell from a stone coffer near the exit, which had cracked open from the intense heat of the demonic fire.

Teg'Ramm was the first through the door behind them, wielding a golem's arm as a mace and looking about for foes to destroy. Nobu'tan wasn't sure why, but the ogre mage had become something of an overbearing guardian since just before they summoned the Legion, something of a mixture of concerned care giver and bodyguard. It wasn't unwelcome of a concept, but odd nonetheless.

Banishing the idle thought for another time, Nobu'tan let the last vestiges of flame die away, and led them on to the split in the path as he had already scouted out.

"That direction leads to the areas occupied by the elementals, and is significantly more well guarded than the dwarven sections of the mountain," he informed those nearest him as they arrived. "I want Doomguards blocking the pathway there, until we return from dealing with the Dark Irons once and for all."

Those who practiced the Fel arts nodded, knowing already what was being asked of them, and forming themselves into groups of five, began the arduous rituals that would call forth some of the more powerful members of the Burning Legion into their service.

The Rituals of Doom were such that, unless one had enough stocked up souls to offer the demon for its arrival, could prove fatal to all those who participated in the summoning, and those nearest to them as well. But during the long fought battles on earth prior to their return to Azeroth, Nobu'tan had prepared great stores of souls for their use, smuggling them away from the Legion without their notice or concern for just such occasions.

True, the sheer number of doomguards they were about to summon would indeed damage the supply of souls that they had, but now that they were on an entirely new world, getting more crystallized souls for their rituals would be far simpler.

The first wave of extremely powerful demons arrived not a moment too soon. Massive elementals and magma giants started surging from the cave network to the side, charging them to try and bisect their forces from each other. Deciding quickly as the ranks of demons met the elementals and held the line, Nobu'tan commanded many of their warriors and warlocks to stay and keep the way cleared, while he took another, smaller, force to finish off the dwarves and return.

Teg'Ramm, Lucius and surprisingly Voldemort demanded each in turn to accompany Nobu'tan, and he could find no reason to deny them. Leaving Draco, and many of the Council with the defenders, Nobu'tan selected six others to accompany them into the depths of the dwarven city, and pressed on to find and remove the head of these Dark Irons from their collective body.

Down and ramp off to the side, there was a massive stone door, which Teg'Ramm threw his body into and heaved open before them. Nobu'tan was shocked at the sheer number of dwarves that awaited them. Hundreds, if not a thousand heavily armed and angry Dark Irons filled the halls, ready to fight and die for their people.

"Find the exit through here, and meet me there," Nobu'tan stated, stepping forward and drawing all the energy of the Fel to him, "I will catch up to you…"

"What do you plan, boy?" Voldemort said sardonically.

"I will teach them the meaning of fear." Nobu'tan stated, glaring down at the first ranks of dwarves even as his form shifted into the well familiar demonic shape. Wings spread widely Nobu'tan leapt into the ranks of dwarves, Fel magic flying from his form and flames buffeting from his wings.

A demon in all but essence, he tore into their lines and sent the dwarves hurtling in all directions with his increased strength. Funneling the powers of the Nathrezim that he had learned from the short stint on Argus, Nobu'tan exuded an aura of fear and terror as he fought, sending just as many dwarves fleeing in fright as he slew.

Grapping a dwarf that was about to turn and retreat, Nobu'tan hefted the short man into the air by the throat, listening for the audible crack as his claw-like hands of shadow crushed windpipe and spinal cord, before throwing the dwarf like a discarded toy into a crowd of his fellows that were attempting to mount a counterattack.

That, among the other carnage that he was causing, seemed to break their spirits at last, and the dwarves fled before him, leaving their dead and dying as he stormed after them, toward the far side of the hall, where a pair of massive braziers waited, guarded by small elementals of fire, which his followers had engaged, clearly in the need of lighting them to open the doors.

The foolish dwarves thought that they could hinder their progress and bar the way, even in the fear of Nobu'tan. It availed them nothing however, as with a mighty leap he soared through the air, crashing with an earth rattling slam into the midst of their ranks once more.

The others turned upon their assailants with fury, and even in his rage and bloodlust, Nobu'tan noted that Voldemort had set upon the dwarves from the other side, channeling all the powers of death and carnage that he could bring to bear, as a true knight of death.

Between the pair of them, the conflict that the dwarves poised to give them turned into a rout, with channels of blood and piles of bodies in their wake as the other eight of their party activated the beacons and the doors beyond them ground open with a shuddering sound.

From beyond, bursts of flames came from statues lining the hall, a defense that seemed last ditch and at the end of the hall stood yet another giant of magma stone. The giant roared in defiance of their advance, but Nobu'tan's company was unimpressed.

They had come too far, sacrificed too much to turn back now, and so, led by a charge of what Centaur had joined them, they advanced. Teg'Ramm blocked a jet of fire with a hasty spell, shattering the stone statue that had been enchanted to defend the way, and Lucius withdrew his wand, banishing piles of the rubble at the giant before them, distracting it from smashing several of their warriors with its massive fist.

Nobu'tan himself, exhausted from maintaining his transformed self for the entirety of the previous chamber and battle, stayed to the rear, recovering his mana reserves through what means he could, watching the other nine of their company do battle with the giant. Teg'Ramm fired a blast of purest chaos at the giant, rending off a portion of its arm and sending it staggering back in shock and fear into the massive gate beyond it.

If the beast had had any intentions of standing up and continuing the fight, they were denied, as the ogre mage charged forth, hands charged with Fel fire and took firm hold of the giant's head, smashing it several times against the gate with resounding booms.

With great effort, the ogre pulled, muscles straining as the stone head was violently removed from its body, using the mound of stone as a makeshift battering ram once more to smash open the door.

"The throne room at last," Nobu'tan said, pleased that at last they had found the end of their journey in these sets of halls. The long throne room was filled with nobles of the Dark Irons, as well as many of the supposed members of this strange cult that bore the symbols of the Twilight Hammer Clan.

At the far end, upon a blazing throne of stone sat a powerfully build dwarf, anger etched in his face like the stone upon which he sat. "Who dares invade my halls and slay my people!" the Emperor demanded, the bluster lost upon those who were here to slay him.

The last remaining guards, and even those Twilight cultists were more than eager to defend the Emperor with their lives, and gladly rushed at the Stormreavers, while the nobles and other civilians of the Dwarves fled in terror, but there was no way out for them, as the throne room was clearly a dead end, a last bastion of defense wherein they thought that they would be safe from the siege.

Nobu'tan personally wouldn't have had it any other way. Their forces were well tried and tested, and this paltry force of remaining guards and fools of varied races wouldn't stop them from eradicating the last of the leadership of these Dark Irons. Soon enough there was little left between them and the Emperor himself, who rose in a towering rage that eclipsed the lack of height that the dwarf possessed.

Stepping down from the high platform upon which his throne was placed, the dwarf lord took up his royal scepter as a mace, and rallied the last of his royal guards, a female in robes with a staff at his side, which Nobu'tan recognized as a different race of dwarf, as she lacked the grey tinted skin of the Dark Irons.

It was just as the prisoner had said, Moria Bronzebeard was a prisoner in her own mind to the Dark Iron Emperor. The real question was whether it would be worth his time to actually permit the dwarf female to live. On the one hand, she was an enemy to the Horde, with or without her mind, but on the other it would be a cruel and uncompromising reason to put her to death for reasons beyond her control.

Making a quick decision, and knowing that he would have to deal with the consequences for his mercy, he commanded, "Do not harm the female, she is under a spell, but I want the Emperor's head."

Whether any of his followers found the order strange, there was no sign, as they had already begun to throw themselves upon the last remnant of the defenders, and challenge the Emperor in open combat, while the Bronzebeard princess channeled powers of the Light to mend his wounds. 'Because of course she would be a priestess,' Nobu'tan thought scornfully, adding his own contribution of magic to slay the dwarven lord.

"You cannot stop me, I am the King of this mountain, and no mongrel orcs or their allies will stop me!" Tharussian yelled, his rage the same as the beating volcanic heart of his home, and the dwarf channeled that power into his great strength, throwing even a centaur from him, and heavily denting armor and shield alike as they fought with him.

The healing magic of the princess kept him fighting however, and Nobu'tan knew something had to be done to prevent this or else they would keep fighting until his forces were out of strength to continue.

Quickly summoning a Felhunter, he commanded the dog-like demon to siphon off the magic of the princess, rendering her spells ineffective and useless, which gave Voldemort, who had taken to the front in the battle against the Emperor, the time he needed to inflict great wounds on the dwarven lord.

Slowly, the rage of the mountain lord dwindled, as he lost the ability to have his wounds restored, and under the wrath of the Death Knight, he eventually fell, bleeding and exhausted at their feet. What Nobu'tan did not expect was the reaction from Moria, who screamed in rage and sorrow, and ran to the fallen dwarf's side, heedless of the foes that she passed through, although she was unhindered.

Sobbing in rage, and clutching the fallen Emperor, she screamed at them all in the dwarven tongue, but only a scant few of them understood when she later switched to the human's common. "You animals! You've killed my husband, the Dark Irons will never forgive you for this, we will rise again and come after your hideous allies and slay all of you, I so swear it!"

Then, as though coming to herself and realizing that she had just declared war on an enemy that had her in their power, Moria Bronzebeard turned and fled into an as of then unknown secret door, disappearing into the crevasse and out of sight.

"Should we pursue her?" Lucius asked, look in the direction that the dwarf woman had fled.

"No, leave her to her grief," Nobu'tan stated, already gathering some of the royal items of the Dwarf Emperor, "We have what we sought from here. There is only the Elemental Lords to deal with now, and we can return at last to Rend and receive the full fellowship of the Horde."

The others agreed, affirming his decision to let the remaining Dark Irons depart from the fortress, for there clearly had to be more than those they slew in this mountain, along with the vengeful queen. Nobu'tan knew that mercy could be considered a weakness, but he was not blind. And he would not kill a pregnant woman, no matter the race. The curses that fell upon those who slew children, well, Voldemort was proof of that in his mind.

"We return to the others, let's leave these halls of death," Nobu'tan commanded, and together they backtracked through the pair of chambers to the long bridge that led to the roots of the mountain. The flow of elementals had ceased, but the doomguard remained, wings flittering as they moved back and forth to keep their vigilant watch.

Nodding to the demons, who moved to the side to permit their passage, Nobu'tan beckoned for their forces to proceed in formation. Who knew what lay ahead of them in the volcanic bowels of this place, and it would be to their benefit to be as prepared as they could.

The doomguard had to remain to guard their exit, and prevent anything from escaping to those areas of the mountain that had been cleared already, but otherwise they were more than able to bring forth a small army of lesser demons to do their bidding, and spearhead their advance to the lowest levels of the volcano.

Despite his confidence that they would succeed, Nobu'tan had a nervous twinge of what exactly they were to find this deep beneath the earth, and he was concerned by the words of the strange serpent creature that they had encountered before. He knew next to nothing about a Firelord, and what they could expect to fight from this point on. A trap was currently the least of his worries.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort was greatly disgusted with Potter, and his weakness in sparing the female dwarf and her remaining subjects, but naturally he was no longer a force to make any sort of pivotal changes within this new organization, which still grated on his nerves to no end. Granted, with all the push from the rest of their assembled group to move on, he was not given the time to so much as process the ramifications of the young man's foolish actions before they were hurtling off toward the next foe once again.

Across the wide bridge that led into the deepest parts of the mountain, Voldemort could sense that the heat from the ever closer pools and rivers of magma was increasing exponentially, despite his rotting corpse of a body lacking the ability to actually feel sensations any longer.

Elementals of fire and stone blocked their path as the progressed, along with giants made of lava rock and molten magma, in addition to a strange sort of fiery beast, somewhat canine in appearance with two separate heads, not unlike a Cerberus after a fashion.

Comparatively to the dwarves that they had so easily slaughtered, their progress was far slower, requiring much more effort to dispatch every foe they encountered, and great care to make sure that they remained safely away from the dangerous drops off either side of the stone pathways that they traveled, seeking ever further downward for this reported Firelord that awaited them somewhere in the swirling vapors of steam.

As they crossed a small metal bridge toward a network of caves, Voldemort had to give credit to their choice of including the whelps of goblins as their allies. Multiple times there were serious burns and injuries, even to Voldemort, that were mended near instantaneously by the goblin magic, and otherwise would have slowly crippled their force and required them to retreat for a time for respite.

The ability for them to continue on and keep fighting was a boon that few could scoff at, and a great advantage in this environment. In the caves were a horde of small, imp-like creatures of fire, who surged forth at the sight of their forces, only marginally held back by a sudden counter onslaught of demons that the warlocks were constantly summoning to give them a buffer from the direct conflict with the denizens of these chambers.

Once the imps were slain, they peered around the final passage in the small network of tunnels, and Voldemort greatly distrusted the sign of countless of the twin-headed hounds, all seemingly young and resting, or at play with each other, while a massive mother was at the far end, watching over her brood with what might have been an animalistic sort of pride.

Another of the fiery serpent creatures, much larger than the one previously they had fought, slithered among the hounds, inspecting each of them as a breeder would, a pair of assistants following behind him.

They took near immediate notice at the hounds' agitation when the Stormreavers came into view, or possibly scent, Voldemort wasn't sure how much these beast would resemble canine of their old world, but nevertheless the beasts were hostile, and with massive growls and snapping jaws they lumber over in groups.

The problem here was when a few were quickly killed, the flames of their fellows would slowly reignite them, and the hounds were stagger back to their feet to continue fighting. The first pack were a true nightmare to combat, but after a time the Stormreavers worked themselves into a patter, understanding how to lead the group of hounds away from those that had fallen, and soon enough scattering their dead bodies in the far corners of the tunnel nearest to them.

Flashes of fire and dark curses were hissed at them from the serpent creature, even at it and its companions engaged them, but without the support of the hounds it was a futile effort, as the sheer number of demons alone that were summoned were more than enough to keep them from actually reaching and injuring any of the warlocks or their allies.

Unfortunately, once the handler fell to the weapons and powers of their forces, the mother hound at the rear of the tunnel let out a bellowing roar, charging forward to defend the remainder of her young, and Voldemort had to dodge out of the way of the massive stamping paws as the creature charged into their ranks, unafraid of the torrent of demons that tried to hinder it.

Striking a the creature's hide with one of the swords he had acquired from the dwarves, Voldemort was not surprised to find that the metal had little effect on the toughened and fiery hide of the mother beast, and he was forced to resort once more to his new magic over frost and death.

Aiming carefully for one of the areas that seemed to vent fire and heat from the beast's insides, Voldemort unleashed a torrent of frost at the creature, and it reared back in agony and surprise at the foreign concept of cold.

Nobu'tan seemed to catch onto the concept quickly, and added his own abilities with the ways of frost magic, sending forth a surge of sharpened icicles into the soft parts of the beast's body and legs, which displeased the gargantuan beast all the more.

Meanwhile, those that lacked the ability to channel the powers of ice did what they could, distracting and harming the creature in more mundane way, with swords and other magic that seemed far less effective on the fiery creature.

None of them however attempted to add more fire to the mix, understanding that these beasts would be well resistance to the effects of more heat, even if it was cursed demonic fire.

Soon enough the torrents of icy magic started to take its toll on the beast of fire, slowing it down and starting to calm the fires on its skin, which further allowed those with only weapons of war to add their contribution, chipping off pieces of the beast with their weapons as it howled in agony at the biting sting of their steel and other metals.

It was then that Voldemort decided to try something new. Delving into the possibilities of his new necromantic magic, the Death Knight ripped into the beast, siphoning off life essence directly from the massive beast, and then wielding that energy as bolts of destructive pain on the offspring that rushed to their mother's aid.

Without the added distraction of the young attacking in waves, the hound matron was quickly slain, collapsing into a writhing heap upon the ground, while a noticeable amount of power and magic was released from the rear of the dead end tunnel where she had rested before they entered.

Voldemort accompanied Nobu'tan to investigate this release of magic while the others took to harvesting whatever they could find from those they had slain, treasure seeming to be spilling from the hound matron's wounds to the torso and belly, she seeming to have consumes much in her lifetime.

The Death Knight and Warlock discovered a faded rune place upon the floor where the hound had been lying, which still had several extremely faded scraps of magic left, giving a clue to what it's purpose had been. "A locking mechanism of some sort," Nobu'tan deduced, and Voldemort agreed.

"But part of a set, meaning that there are others before we can discover what it is that these runes bar from us," he added, noting the nature of the carvings. The language was not one that he recognized, but his experience in Ancient Runes told him much regarding the shape and configuration of it, even if he couldn't read the wording itself.

"We ought to find the others, I would wager that we will need to disable them all if we are to clear out this caves of the Firelord and his minions for good." Nobu'tan concluded, and the pair returned to the rest of their group, happily accepting a few items from the fallen, before backtracking to the main tunnels.

It seemed that the other minions had also felt the pulse of power as the rune was disabled, as they had risen up again to swarm out of the tunnels ahead, and were already battling with some demons that the warlocks had left behind to cover their rear, and their line was almost broken when the main force returned, charging into battle with sword and spell. Voldemort himself charged to the front, eager to experiment more with his powers over life and death, eagerly ripping at the life energy of his foes, and straining to understand how these living elementals had life force for him to manipulate.

It was quite unlike anything he had experienced in their old world, as inanimate objects like stone or fire, while powerful, were never able to attain their own sentience, but were always completely under the control of the witch or wizard that summoned them, like puppets on strings.

But that was not so here, as Voldemort watched a trio of living boulder creatures rumble toward them, the jet black coloration of the rock concealing the sharp edges and volcanic glassy nature of the material they were comprised of.

Perhaps, he mused as they pushed on into the advancing ranks of their foes, it had to do something with the sheer amount of magic that pervaded the air of this world, compared to the one they had come from.

It didn't take a particularly powerful wizard to understand that this world was rich with magical energy, flowing in currents both above and below the surface. Where magic was primarily contained in the individual creatures and the Leylines of their own world, it lived and breathed here as its own being, in addition to saturating the very ground around them, regardless of the place they had crossed through.

While true, some places had been tainted with different flavors of magic, it was nonetheless extremely plentiful. Grudgingly, Voldemort had to concede that this world was superior to their own, and that coming here was a worthwhile goal of the young man that he had been bound to, although binding them all to this demonic horde that sought destruction was still in debate of whether it was a worthy price for this.

Although, in the few times that Voldemort had overheard Nobu'tan and the others discuss the Legion, which had been rare, they had shown some measure of scorn for the endless army that had destroyed their home world, and demanded that this one too be put to the flame of their devastation.

He wondered if they were considering backing out of their deal with the Legion, refusing to sacrifice this world to them and becoming permanent residents of this place instead. It would be a hard put sort of lifestyle, as who knew when the Legion would find some other means of invading, and they would instantly be at the top of their attack list, but Voldemort felt that if that was their chosen course, it would be acceptable to him for the time being, until he discovered a more fitting end for himself that was worthy of the most dangerous Dark Lord of their world's history.

Soon enough, another of the massive serpent creatures appeared, with guards this time of the same species, and attacked them with bursts of magma and flame, attempting to lead a counterattack to drive them out of the core of the mountain.

Sadly, for the creature at least, the warlocks were already in the midst of summoning more reinforcements from the Twisted Nether, which held their charge back until they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of demons and other extra-worldly creatures.

Pressing back against their attack, Voldemort felt the ground begin to tremble, as though a cave in was approaching them, and for a moment when he looked he was nearly convinced that that was exactly what was happening. A horde of rock elementals, let by a massive one of steel gray and black ore, thundered up the slopes carved by magma in the underground tunnels, hurling themselves as well as boulders into the ranks of the Stormreavers.

Voldemort knew that those among them with healing powers would be hard pressed at this point, even as he himself took a boulder to the side, feeling one of his arms break under the force, although it caused him no pain through his deadened nerves.

Instead, he stepped back from the front lines, turning his dark powers upon his own weapon, channeling the deathly magic into the blade, and launched back into the fray with a vengeful scream of unholy fury. Whether these creatures could feel fear he did not know, but nevertheless the dark green flames of undeath that shrouded his blade cracked stone and seemed to beat upon those elementals of fire as though they were solid creatures.

A pair of wild, destructive blasts of magic soared over the heads of the frontline fighters, striking the hulking rock elemental with concussive force, and the Dark Lord needn't guess that Crabbe and Goyle Sr. were up to their old tricks, thoroughly empowered by the chaotic magic that Potter had taught to them.

What was astounding was the devastation to the beast that the pair of magical attacks had. The angered stone face crumbled, and the entire elemental shattered into a fine powder, aside from metal and certain other things that fell from it, apparently hidden within its bulk. There were many items and weapons, which Voldemort felt was quite odd for such a creature to hold onto, but he was in little position to judge when the thing was already dead.

One of the goblin shaman ran to him as the others mopped up the remaining foes, and with magical water rushing through the tiny clawed hands, Voldemort felt the crushed and broken arm start to mend itself, snapping back into place with a sickening crunch, if such things meant anything to him anymore.

Nodding his appreciation to the goblin, Voldemort started toward the main group of their leaders, who were standing over the large pile of treasure that they had collected thus far in this place, deciding quickly on how best to store it until they were well away from danger and able to distribute it effectively to their followers.

Voldemort however, spotted something unusual. Among the gathered items and equipment that they had found, there was what seemed to be a glittering single bracer, or some other sort of overlarge wrist binding, that seemed to beckon Voldemort much as the smoking heart of the mountain had.

With little thought he took the item, unnoticed by any of the others, who were dealing with the task of organizing the crews that would carry the rest of the items until they returned to the Horde camp.

As he grasped the large wrist guard, Voldemort felt a rushing sensation, which was odd due to his corpse-like state, almost like the rushing of wind down his back, but naturally in the underground chambers of the volcano that was simply not possible to have happened.

Idly, as he prepared to move on with the rest of the group as they marched toward the next passage if there was a second bracer to go with this one, making it a true pair of bindings.


	57. C56: The Molten Core

**Chapter Fifty Six**

 **The Molten Core**

Teg'Ramm was certain that they needed to be cautious from this point on, as the Stormreavers had done a great deal of damage to the forces of these elementals, and their enemies were sure to want revenge as the united force pushed even deeper into the core of the mountain.

Whatever those serpent creatures were that seemed to be important leaders in the elemental's ranks, they were less than pleased with their progress, as another confronted them once they turned a corner in the passage and entered another vaulted chamber filled with small earth and fire elementals.

This particular serpent could access Arcane magic, and wielded it with an ease that was downright disturbing to the ogre, as he had never before witnessed a mage of great power, aside from the guardian Merlin for those short encounters when the Order of the Black Harvest aided him in defeating Morgan Le Faye.

This was on an entirely different level, as the raw magical energy that poured from the strange creature dashed stone asunder and only their most powerful shields prevented them from being harmed. Needless to say, there were a great deal of injuries to heal once the beast was slain, and even more arguing about how to add that creatures large stash of treasure to their ever increasing horde.

It was quite surprising the number of items that they had discovered that were not only useable for them, but seemed to have been made with mortals of their sizes in mind, rather than the hulking serpents or their elemental allies.

Nobu'tan chalked it up to the fact that magic attracted magic, and chose to explore the ramifications no further than that, even if that left many questions still unanswered.

There was still yet much farther to go, and another hulking elemental of fire now blocked their path, scalding the stone beneath it to glass as it moved.

In answer, Nobu'tan called upon his Mage training, and started to heavily rely on the magic of ice and shadow, as his powers had merged together from so long training as both mage and warlock. They seemed more effective than most of the other spells that even Teg'Ramm could use on the beast, but the group of over forty still had a deal of a time destroying the beast, with it setting members of their group ablaze as well as burning the very magic out of a being, which caused their goblin healer allies to go into a frenzy of magical arts to prevent anyone from actually dying.

Soon enough, that elemental also fell, its embers filtering away in the heat of the volcanic air and the heavy metal bindings revealing more stored treasure that this creature had possessed. Interestingly, the ogre mage noticed that the Death Knight, Voldemort, had taken a fancy to one of the items dropped by this elemental as well, grasping a large, highly magical bracer from the entire trove and secreting it away.

For the time being, Teg'Ramm allowed the man to have his stolen treasure, if only so that no one else had to carry it, but he made a note to inform Nobu'tan of the proceedings at the earliest opportunity.

The path ahead rose over a lava flow, giving a wide area to observe where in lay more fiery hounds, as well as a massive molten giant, which seemed to be guarding yet another of the strange runes that seemingly were formed out of the rock of the volcanic floor of the various chambers.

However, it was a long drop if they desired to attack the giant immediately, and the path continued on past that point, which begged them to explore and see if there was another way around. It was fortunate that they were high enough that the giant could not see them, nor the hounds at its feet smell them, as Nobu'tan took them past and onward to the chamber beyond.

Just when Teg'Ramm thought that the caverns were going to continue on forever, they rounded a corner and came to what seemed to be a dead end, ringed with elementals and another, larger, group of the fiery serpents, which their demonic allies charged eagerly, insatiable in their lust after blood and death.

The Fel Centaur and Veela, almost as demonic as the true demons, were hot on the heels of the charging Legion creatures, eager to see the death of their enemies. The others were more cautious, supporting the mad charge from the rear with spells and projectiles, hemming in those elementals that tried to circle around and cut their group in two parts.

It was only afterward that they realized that while the passage ended in that particular direction, there was another path that circled back and downward, leading to the massive giant from the direct route.

Some of their allies were about to proceed into view to challenge the great hulking creature, but Nobu'tan called them back. "I want those with spells to backtrack to the overlooking platform, it will give us an advantage of attack on two sides." He commanded, which seemed fair and reasonable to them all.

Teg'Ramm, the Council of the Black Harvest, and their other mages and warlocks took to the platform overlooking, while Voldemort, their demons and other melee fighters charged into the open, initiating battle with the giant and its allies.

Only once the battle was in full swing did Nobu'tan give the order, and from their great height they rained down powerful spells of death and destruction, slaughtering the lesser minions of the giant, and causing great harm and distraction to the giant himself, forcing it to decide between the forces on the ground and those above its head to focus on.

That distraction alone was probably what save a great many of their forces down on the ground, where its stamping feet might have crush a great deal of their warriors, and before too long, the deathblow was given. The giant fell in a great ruin, and the rune flared into being, before fading completely.

But even as they relaxed from their current battle, and started to move toward the passage that would unite their two groups, a hissing voice sounded in the tunnels, indeterminable where it originated. "The runes of warding have been destroyed! Hunt down the infidels my brethren!"

They looked about for a time, but it was Nobu'tan, who had instantly conjured eyes of Kil'rogg to scout out the source that located the largest of the serpent creatures, along with several heavily armed fellows, high on a rise situated between their current position and the other faction down where the giant had fallen.

Quickly giving them orders to meet them at the base of that rise, Teg'Ramm, Nobu'tan and the others made their way there, mercifully free from all other interfering creatures or elementals. However, when they arrived, and were joined by the rest of their party, the ramp leading up to where the voice had originated was already swarming with the greatest number of elementals that they had yet to see.

"It will be a hard won battle just to ascend to that platform, let alone whatever fight comes after." Nobu'tan mused, watching their demons charge the bottom part of the spiral ramp and engage the swarms of elementals as they poured from somewhere above, just out of sight.

"Nevertheless, where you go, we will follow," Teg stated, Ramm nodding in agreement.

"If we fight carefully, and push with a steady pace, then these elementals will break before us, and their rubble will coat the slopes as we climb," Aisha Feltalon said, her screechy voice somewhat jarring on the ogre mage's ears.

Nobu'tan nodded, accepting the loyalty as it was given, and turned his face toward the daunting bastion of elemental forces, "then we attack," he commanded, giving the order for them to support their expendable demons and push the top of the rise.

Teg'Ramm eagerly took to the front, tired of waiting in the rear and casting spells when his arms were just as effective holding a weapon. The magically enhanced staff that he used was well balanced and effective at bashing in even the solid stone heads of the elementals, and while Teg made excellent use of their momentum to push onward, Ramm guided their mind, casting supporting and destructive spells even without the needed gestures that their arms wouldn't be capable of doing while fighting.

Such was the gift of the two headed ogre magi, and it was a powerful tool in their arsenal that they preferred to not showcase too often to potential foes, or anyone else for that matter. Better for them to be underestimated by those who didn't understand the nature of having two powerful and cunning minds affixed to one body, as well as a powerful stream of magical power that ran in and through the same body.

Only through the combined effort of the group however, allowed them to push through the endless streams of elementals and breach the top of the rise. Waiting for them there was a grouping of heavily armored and angry fiery serpent creatures.

A pair of demons charged in gleefully, but for once the creatures were more than prepared for the attack, and used their weapons to tear the Legion minions apart. "Reckless mortals!" the lead creature declared, raising one of its scaly arms and pointing at the group of Stormreavers as they assembled at the top of the slope. "None may challenge the Sons of the Living Flame!"

And without further warning, the knot of creatures, these 'sons of the living flame,' attacked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco hadn't expected any of their battles to be as swift or brutal as this one had exploded into being. The serpent-like creatures were vicious, and it took the combine effort of the warlocks to summon enough demons to hold them off barely from breaching their line and pushing their entire force back onto the ramp.

For a brief moment, all seemed lost, and they were about to be forced back, but Draco drew strength to himself, refusing to allow such a defeat after all they had sacrificed. Calling upon the power of the Fel, he allowed the demonic summoning energy to flow through him, and a massive meteorite crashed through layers of volcanic stone above them, smashing into the midst of their attackers, and stunning many of them from the impact.

From the ruin rose a terrible Infernal, fully under Draco's control and blazing with Felfire. Taking up the same tactic, many of the other warlocks around him summoned similar effects, and soon the roof was punctured with holes as the demonic golems were brought to the field.

The tide had turned in this stunning display, and the forces of the Stormreavers rallied, charging back onto the rise with fury, and cleaving down those allies of the great serpent as they recovered from the impacts of so many infernals.

Surprisingly once his guards were dead, the leader of these supposed high and might creatures fled back from them, "Impossible! Stay your attack, mortals… I submit! I submit!" it cried, the hissing and sputtering making it difficult to fully tell what he was saying.

Nevertheless, Nobu'tan ordered them to halt, although they kept their weapons high and spells ready to be flung at a moment's notice. Despite this, the creature seemed perfectly at ease, albeit angry at being defeated. "Brashly, you have come to wrest the secrets of the Living Flame! You will soon regret the recklessness of your quest." It hissed, and Draco was somewhat confused. Just what was it that the creature thought that they were after in coming here?

"I go now to summon the lord whose house this is. Should you seek an audience with him, your paltry lives will surely be forfeit! Nevertheless, seek out his lair, if you dare!" the creature declared, before dramatically vanishing into a pillar of fire.

"Well, that was unexpected…" Draco said when several moments had passed with no further change around them. Behind where the creatures had been there was a large stone trove filled with even more items of magical properties, which the Stormreaver's eagerly claimed for their own, but they had nowhere else to go further into the mountain.

"He said he was going to awaken the lord of this mountain…" Nobu'tan said, already deep in thought and pacing as they divided the treasure for transport. "There has to be something else we've overlooked here, some small side passage that went unnoticed as we came down here."

"No other use but to backtrack then I guess?" Draco volunteered, and pleasantly most of the group nodded in agreement, even if they were all equally displeased by the idea of scouring the underground volcanic chambers once more.

"If we can eliminate the leader of these elementals, then the lower sections of the mountain are ours for the taking," Nobu'tan explained, working to convince the several who felt too tired to go on, or who were otherwise unwilling to proceed, "in addition to claiming greater praise and honor from the Horde…"

"Besides," Draco added, "we have to go back to leave anyway, if we want to make sure that nothing else got away from us."

And so, in the end, logic won out, and they started the arduous climb back up the sloping tunnels, checking every nook and cranny for any off shooting passages that hadn't been explored the first time.

They had almost reached the first area that led back into the dwarven mines and caverns when one of the Fel Veela ran over to the group, pointing out a large passage that had not been present before, smoke and vapor spewing forth from another network of tunnels beyond.

Elementals were present, which led to the conclusion that this was indeed the place that they sought, and once again the group of Stormreavers went in, hungry to find the last of their adversaries in this portion of the mountain and secure their dominance here at last.

The chamber didn't stay dark and covered with smoke for long, as they quickly came into a massive central chamber, spiraling down toward what seemed to be a pool of lava in the very base of the mountain.

What was more, the serpent creature that they had confronted and chased off was there in the center, channeling magic into the very center of the volcano. Whatever the creature was up to, there was quite the large buildup of energy, almost reminiscent of methods that they used to bring powerful demons out from the Nether to do their bidding.

Of course, this seemed vastly different, as the energy was purely fire and arcane, rather than touched with the Fel as were the demonic summoning.

It took some time for their group to travel down the narrowing spirals of passable rock between the lava flows and reach the central area where the serpent humanoid was awaiting them. Even as they drew closer, the creature began to speak to them, "The Firelord and his brethren once held sway over this entire world, mortals. As a servant of the old gods, he fought against the Titans for domination of this planet. The victorious Titans banished my master and his brethren to the elemental plane, there to remain imprisoned until the end of time."

Draco said nothing, but could tell that even Nobu'tan was stayed at the thought of confronting such a powerful being. Nevertheless, the Stormreaver Clan marched on, drawing closer to the central pool of swirling magma.

Taking their silence as permission, the fiery serpent continued its tale, "A mere three hundred years ago, a reckless dwarf named Thaurissan summoned the master from his fiery realm. His return to this paltry world devastated the surrounding lands and created this volcanic core. Mighty Ragnaros has slept under this mountain ever since." The creature explained, which was odd that such a one would reveal so much regarding the master whom he served. Quite arrogant it was, if he thought that they would be so easily defeated, Draco mused.

But the creature didn't stop, even as they drew level with the lowest point of the mountain, "We, his sworn servants, do his bidding and enforce his iron rule. Cut off from the energies of his fiery realm, Ragnaros is but a shadow of his true self. However, he has more than enough strength to be your end. Imprudent whelps! You've rushed headlong to your own deaths! See now, the master stirs!"

Draco spotted several of their group tighten their holds on their weapons, preparing for the order to slay this creature and prevent the summoning of such a being, but Nobu'tan made no attempt to give such an order, even as the lava started to churn of its own, and the servant of the elemental lord raised its arms in triumph, even as a column of flame and lava flow upward, forming into a strangely humanoid shape, bearing a mighty hammer in one molten hand.

"Behold Ragnaros: the Firelord! He who was ancient when this world was young! Bow before him, mortals! Bow before your ending!" the servant cried joyously, but it seem that the master was less than pleased.

In a booming voice, the Firelord turned and spoke to the creature, "TOO SOON! YOU HAVE AWAKENED ME TOO SOON, EXECUTUS! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS INTRUSION?"

Humbly, knowing Draco presumed that he would have angered his lord with this action, the creature finally named as Executes spoke, pointing at the Stormreavers, "These mortal infidels, my lord! They have invaded your sanctum and seek to steal your secrets!"

Whatever Executus thought would occur, Draco didn't presume that the wrath of his lord was at the top of the list, even as flames began to wash over the serpent, and Ragnaros roared in anger, "FOOL! YOU ALLOWED THESE INSECTS TO RUN RAMPANT THROUGH THE HALLOWED CORE? AND NOW YOU LEAD THEM TO MY VERY LAIR? YOU HAVE FAILED ME, EXECUTUS! JUSTICE SHALL BE MET, INDEED!"

"My flame... Please, don't take away my flame..." Executus weakly pleaded, before his body simply dissolved into ashes and vanished forever.

Once his servant was disposed of, the towering elemental lord turned his fiery gaze upon them, anger clearly wrought in his terrible voice, "NOW FOR YOU, INSECTS! BOLDLY, YOU SOUGHT THE POWER OF RAGNAROS. NOW YOU SHALL SEE IT FIRSTHAND!"

Without warning, the massive hammer lifted, molten magma pouring from it as it removed from the pool below the powerful inferno that was Rangeros, swinging with a massive overhead attack at them. What the elemental lord did not expect, was the addition of so many wizards from a long distant world. Wands were draw like lightning, and layered shield charms projected over their heads, forming a near impenetrable barrier from the sudden attack, and stopping the hammer as it thundered down upon them, splattering lava in all directions away from them as it collided with the unseen force of their magic.

"Spread out, attack!" Nobu'tan commanded, and the Stormreavers obeyed, Draco going with his father and several of the other Black Harvest Warlocks to the left, while their melee fighters charged the front, and others went right, along with Nobu'tan himself.

The narrow paths of rock seemed rather treacherous for them to stand upon, even as the lava all around them surged and oft times erupted upward as the Firelord moved and swung his hammer, this time met by a massive shield in the hands of Voldemort, who took the blow with the resistance of a pillar of stone, feet sinking slightly into the stone beneath him, but otherwise being unharmed.

Blasts of Felfire and shadow magic poured from all sides, peppering the towering form of Ragneros, and while Draco knew that the spells had to be taking effect, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was a futile effort, what magic could they know to defeat an ancient terror such as this being?

Eventually, the hammer in the elemental lord's hands started to glow white hot, and Draco knew that he was up to something, "BY FIRE BE PURGED!" Rangeros cried, swinging the hammer high and spewing a torrent of magma in all direction.

"Shields!" Nobu'tan yelled, moments before they acted, many dodging the torrents of fiery liquid or throwing up quick shield charms or spells that protected them from the downpour. Seeing that his tactic had been foiled, the Firelord turned upon Nobu'tan, seeing him as the leader, and attempted to crush him with the massive hammer, but the warlock turned out to be far too nimble and well defended for the Firelord to strike.

Dodging swiftly, and using both wizard magic and the mage arcane spells to defend himself, Nobu'tan was able to draw much of the attention of the Firelord away from the others, so that they could continue to fire spell after spell at the massive elemental.

But the distraction only lasted so long before the Firelord grew wary of their magic. Slamming the massive hammer down with great force, Ragneros broke apart the stone that Nobu'tan had been standing on, the warlock only barely dodging out of the way as fresh magma took the place of his previous location. "TASTE THE FLAMES OF SULFURON!" he bellowed, before submerging completely into the lava.

There was a pregnant moment of near silence, as the magma hissed and churned, before it erupted in many places, affecting some with terrible burns and causing the shaman and priests to scramble about in a panic to heal those who were most grievously injured.

The massive elemental lord rose from the center area of lava once more, brandishing the molten hammer and throwing various spells of fire into their midst, even as they resumed their attacks, trying to hinder or weaken the powerful ancient being.

"COME FORTH, MY SERVANTS! DEFEND YOUR MASTER!" Rangeros bellowed after a time, and fiery portals opened all around them, spewing forth various serpent creatures, which hissed menacingly as they advance on them from all sides.

The battle grew, if anything, more intense. Draco flung spell after spell, hoping to at least make sure his curses were well affixed to every living target that he could, dodging weapons and flames as he ran about the outer circle to stay out of range of the swarming mass of attackers.

Eventually, he found his father in the mass chaos, who was being healed of a direly bleeding wound in his shoulder by a shaman, magical water streaming down the wound as it closed itself. "There's too many of them." He stated, turning to the nearest one and causing the Fel magic to start ripping the soul violently from the creature's body, knocking it to the ground as it writhed in agony.

But then the Firelord roared again. "MY PATIENCE IS DWINDLING! COME, GNATS: TO YOUR DEATH!" he shouted, as a literal wave of magma started to churn along the outskirts of the spiral of stone, coming straight for them.

"Draco!" Lucius shouted, throwing his son behind him alongside the goblin. His wand was out and a shield formed over the pair, but Draco saw in dawning horror that his father was outside of it, and Lucius screamed as the wave of lava overcame him, was blocked and rolled off to the sides of the shield, leaving the ruin of his father before them.

"Save him!" Draco demanded of the shaman, who looked daunted at the challenge for a moment, before pulling several small totems from a bag at its waist. "Protect me, young scion of Malfoy, and I will do this thing you ask."

Immediately, fresh cool water swarmed around the goblin's arms, tethering around Lucius' charred form, even as Draco summoned every demon he could think of, demanding of them to protect the goblin with their lives from all interruption. There was not a moment to spare if his father was to live through this battle, and Draco would not be the one to tell his mother that her husband had died within the first month of their arrival in this place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan saw the moment that Lucius fell defending his son and a goblin shaman, and rage engulfed him from the very core of his soul. This family had given their all to help him, and this Firelord in his arrogance had destroyed their patriarch, the one who had pledged loyalty to Nobu'tan and his cause.

All around, his allies were sporting many injuries, being healed as quickly as they could by the various goblins, but there was were only so many of them, and soon enough they would be overrun if something didn't change now.

"COME YOU MINIONS OF FIRE! COME FORTH YOU CREATURES OF HATE! YOUR MASTER CALLS!" Ragneros commanded, summoning more of his fiery servants to the battle, cackling in laugher as their demons collided heavily with the elite of the Sons of the Living Flame.

Felfire and shadow power surged through Nobu'tan, along with the Arcane might that he was taught. "No more!" he roared, leaping into the air as he transformed into his demonic form, the Felflame upon his skin protecting him from even the heat of the Firelord as he collided heavily with the armor plating that the elemental wore.

Felclaws slashed wildly, and spells of Fel, Arcane and wizardry flew from his lips, even as a literal Nether storm erupted around the battle figures. Channeling all the magic he could through his already sizably powerful frame, Nobu'tan sought to end this elemental lord at all costs, even his own life if need be. The Stormreavers must live on, even if he himself perished.

"YOU CANNOT DEFEAT THE LIVING FLAME!" Rangeros challenged, trying to bat him away with arms of lava or the massive warhammer in his hand, but Nobu'tan was relentless. He had fought much in his short life, and even if this was the greatest challenge of all thus far, he would not fail his people.

Felclaws tore into the metal chestplate that the elemental lord wore, exposing the very heart of the Firelord, surging with a heat greater than anything within the Volcano. Summoning all the Arcane he could muster, Nobu'tan unleashed a beam of pure frost into the very heart of Ragneros, which caused the Firelord to scream in agony and rear back, stunning every one of his servants into silent horror as they watched their master die.

The flaming heart of the Firelord slowly froze over; becoming a hardened chunk of volcanic stone, and Rangeros himself began to teeter, slowly sliding back into the magma at his base.

"IT WAS…. TOO SOON!" he said, even as Nobu'tan leapt off the falling corpse as it slid the rest of the way into the pool of lava, dragging the massive hammer with it. It was over, the Firelord was defeated, and his minions fled back into the fiery portals from whence they had come, unwilling to challenge the demon that had slain their master.

Almost immediately afterward, there was a blinding flash of light from behind them, and Nobu'tan whirled, expecting some new enemy, but lowered his hands as he saw Lucius rising to his feet, the burns and injuries that had killed him rapidly disappearing, and the man standing whole and very much alive before him.

"Lord Nobu'tan," Lucius said as the younger warlock rapidly approached, concern still etched in his face at seeing the man who had just returned from death on his feet so soon. "It seems that magic in this world is far more powerful than I had possibly imagined, even being able to bring the dead to life once more…"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nobu'tan assessed the rest of their situation. If Lucius had energy to be sarcastic and irritating, then he was fine. "We have cleared out all of the elementals, and their dwarven servants, just as Rend demanded of us, we can now return to him and begin our long preparations for the taking of the upper reaches of the mountain, and the reuniting of the Horde in its glory."

So it was that a tired, but ultimately victorious group which emerged from the depths of Blackrock Mountain, back to the Horde encampment at the base of the mountain, and Nobu'tan took the leading six of the Council of the Black Harvest to the tent of the Warchief, while the others saw to their own needs, refreshment and relaxation from the grueling time beneath the mountain. It was rather odd to know that they had been fighting through those tunnels for nearly a day and a half without rest more than a pause here and there.

To say that Rend was surprised to see them back so soon was an understatement. The orc had been already in the midst of eating his own rather large evening meal, along with his commanders and generals, and paused in the process of ripping meat from a pork leg as the Stormreavers entered. The rest of the noise in the room died as well, all eyes turning toward the dirty, soot stained, and in some cases bloody travelers that had barged in.

"Warchief," Nobu'tan said, making certain that their illusions were still firmly in place, "The Stormreavers return to you victorious. The mountain's depths are clear of all opposition."

The silence that pervaded the statement was almost as profound as the statement itself. Clearly, Rend had not expected them to survive, let alone so quickly come back with news of their victory, and had nothing to say, just as much as Nobu'tan had expected. The fact that this lout was now Warchief was more a matter of bloodlines rather than the orc actually earning the title.

Unfortunately, it would be extremely difficult to assert full and total control with this other Lord Nefarious in charge of the upper regions of the mountain, if Nobu'tan was to take command of the Horde directly, not to mention grossly wasteful of his own time that would be better put to use plotting and planning their rise as a power throughout the continent. In due time perhaps, it would be necessary to remove or replace Rend Blackhand, but now was not that time.

Finally, the Warchief recovered enough of his senses to respond, and let out a howl of delight, slamming the meat back down on the table. "We have all the more to celebrate then it seems!" he cried, beckoning the Stormreavers to join the large table at which they all sat.

Nobu'tan took a seat directly opposite the Warchief, but as the rest of his commanders would not move themselves, the other five of his warlocks had to stand around him, like a guard against treachery as food was passed toward Nobu'tan. "Tell us," Rend demanded, "how did you manage what my own warriors could not is so short a time."

And so Nobu'tan began, between mouthfuls of food and drink to not appear discourteous to the gesture of sitting at the Warchief's table and partaking of his own food, to tell them the long tale of their decent into the mountain, and the slaughters that took place among first the dwarves, then their elemental masters.

He pointedly neglected to tell of the prisoners that he had freed and taken into the Stormreavers, nor of the survival of the Dwarven princess and her departure with the remnant of their people, nor of the Firelord and all they had learned regarding its history. Some things were better kept to oneself in these matters, and much of the history and lore would be wasted upon deaf ears to them regardless.

"And so," Nobu'tan finished after about an hour of telling, "now we control all of the depths of the mountain, all the way to the very roots of its volcanic base."

Rend roared with pleasure, "Lord Nefarius will be pleased to hear of this," he boasted, "it will do well for us to inform him of this as quickly as possible, he may even want to meet you himself," the orc said haughtily…

"True, and that is all well and good, Warchief," Nobu'tan stated, growing colder as he stared into Rend's more-than-bloodshot eye from all the drink he had consumed during the telling of the Stormreaver's tale, "But there is still the matter of freeing the Horde completely from outside control. The mountain is ours, the heritage of your father, and I will not rest so long as some human has control of it, and through it delegates the action of our mighty Horde."

Rend seemed to momentarily sober at those words, probably recalling that his father had been the one to take this mountain in the first place, naming it a sign that the Horde was right to come here, at learning that the mountain's name was the same as their Clan.

"I agree that the Horde needs to be united under orc rule, as it once was," Rend said after a time, "but there is more at work here than I felt safe to share with you before. But now, after such a display of loyalty, I think we can trust you with the truth."

Already sensing something that was amiss since they had arrived in the Burning Steppes, Nobu'tan answered, "The dragons…"

"Yes," Rend affirmed, "Lord Nefarius has a strong alliance with these black dragons, and is aiding them in some sort of strange project, creating a completely new dragonflight by crossing the magic and flesh of the others, warping them with magic that I can scarcely recognize, let alone start to comprehend."

It spoke highly of the situation, Nobu'tan noticed, for Rend to readily admit that he did not understand something, even in his drunken state. And, from what Nobu'tan remembered of the orc from so long ago, being drunk off the various amounts of swill that Rend considered passable as drink tended to only make him angrier and more stubborn as time passed.

This either meant that the orc had mellowed with age, which Nobu'tan was loath to believe of Rend, or that this was something deathly serious that the orc was withholding information about to him. "There has to be something else you're not telling us," he therefore replied, hoping to coax out some measure of useful information out of the orc.

The orc frowned, clearly already starting to feel the effects of his many drinks this night, but said no more about the mysterious benefactor and his draconic allies, turning his bleary attention rather to the other commanders, who were telling tales of the old days, and merrymaking about their victories of bygone battles.

Nobu'tan decided that he was no longer required to remain, and therefore stood, departing swiftly with the rest of the Council, and passing through the camp unhindered to the area that the Stormreavers had claimed, far on the western side of the encampment, closest to the mountain.

Nobu'tan retired to his own tent almost immediately, accompanied only by Teg'Ramm, who had elected himself to serve as personal bodyguard whenever he wasn't ordered to do otherwise. Nobu'tan allowed this, as he hoped to preserve a closer relationship with his servant and student than what Gul'dan had let sit idle and fester when it came to Cho'Gall so long ago.

The sun was already setting as Nobu'tan retired, forcing himself into a sort of waking trance to recover his energy, while still remaining as alert as he dared in case someone approached uninvited. There was still a great deal of mistrust between the Stormreavers and the rest of the Horde, he could sense it, but little they could do to rectify that at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Narcissa Malfoy already had had quite enough of riding upon beasts, and these flying gryphons were the worst and most filthy creatures that she had ever encountered, not that she dared mention aloud her discomfort. Years of Pureblood breeding and grooming mixed with a knowledge that these beasts were far more intelligent than their appearance suggested aided her in holding her tongue, as she had little desire for the razor sharp talons to be turned upon her or those women and children that she had a job escorting toward the capital city of Stormwind.

This was already the second trip back that she had to make to Lakeshire, as those who had organized their travel plans hadn't factored in that there would be so many women and children in need of protection, and thusly had understaffed their guards, not to mention failed to forewarn their destination of the numbers about to join them. As such, while Narcissa and the fist group had been able to travel all the way to the massive castle city without issue, they had quickly run out of rooming the various inns and taverns that they occupied while searching for more permanent lodging.

These two idiocies had compiled to Narcissa needing to fly all the way back to Lakeshire before the second group left, to reroute them to the nearby settlement of Goldshire, just outside the castle, and the inn there, which quickly filled up as well. Now she was on her way back, again, to direct the next group toward Northshire Abby, which had graciously opened the doors of their monastery to the refugees that remained, so that they had a safe place to rest while they sought out employment and refuge in the city.

She did not complain however, as she knew that Lucius had the much harder task, making sure that Nobu'tan didn't steer their forces straight into a political trap, or some other nightmare, not to mention actual fighting and other hazards that had prompted her husband to send them away in the first place.

With a surprisingly soft bounce, the Gryphon landed at the nearest roost to Lakeshire, on the far side of the large bridge, still under repair, and Narcissa was helped off the beast by the local Flight Master, a woman named Ariena Stormfeather, with whom Narcissa had grown somewhat familiar with on her first return trip.

"Back again, my Lady?" the woman asked, recognizing her once Narcissa had her feet back on solid earth.

"Yes," Narcissa replied, gingerly working the wrinkles from the front of her robes, as appearances were extremely important in places like this, "We completely filled the Lion's Pride's Inn in Goldshire, and the next group needs to be told that they will be heading to Northshire Abbey."

"Oh my," Ariena replied, even as she took the lead that was attached to the Gryphon that Narcissa had arrived on, tying it to the bed of straw that the beast was already lounging upon, looking over the pair of woman with its massive eyes. "Do you need any help rounding them up?" she asked.

"I think not, but thank you for your consideration," Narcissa replied, wanting no help from anyone in organizing her people. She was very capable on her own, as Lucius would attest to in no small words. "I believe they are all awaiting my, and the escort's, arrival near the far side of the bridge."

And sure enough, there was a large congregation of familiar faces moving toward them across the damaged bridge, many of the women's faces rather humbled from what they had thus far experienced. Narcissa wondered how many of the wives and children of those Purebloods who had rallied around Nobu'tan truly realized what their decision had entailed, or had even asked what would become of them once they arrived in this world. Not that it mattered what they thought. They were just as aware as Narcissa was that there was no turning back now, and had to make do with what comforts they could get. At least magic was still just as powerful here as it was at home, if not more so. There were only so many things a woman could do without after all.


	58. C57: Resounding Echoes

**Once more unto the breach! it is that time of the week again, my friends, and I hope that this chapter is as willingly received as it is willingly given. please R &R, and enjoy! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty Seven**

 **Resounding Echoes**

The elements churned with a strange shift in the steady, Durotar breeze that swept through the Valley of Wisdom. Thrall, Warchief of the united Horde of orcs, trolls, tauren, and currently the Forsaken undead, turned from his advisors to study the shift, staring out of Grommash Hold, past the massive dead tree that sported the armor and tusks of Manneroth and out into the night sky of Kalimdor.

"Warchief?" said a voice near him, and Thrall turned to see his chief advisor, Nazgrel, as well as a few others who had stopped to focus their attention upon him. The other shaman out in the antechamber had also stopped to perceive the change in the winds, which concerned the Warchief all the more. "Something is different in the winds, but I cannot place its origin…" Thrall said, standing from his massive throne and stepping down to stand among the other shaman.

"The elementals are in turmoil," Gotura Fourwinds stated, the hulking Tauren shaman of the Earthen Ring closing his eyes to feel out the distress of the powers they wielded.

"I sense it has something to do with events upon the Eastern Kingdoms," Zor Lonetree added, the Elder Far Seer of the Horde also reaching out with his power over the elements.

Thrall raised a hand, "We shall see what the Elements may tell us concerning this." He stated to the room at large, before gathering energy to himself. "Spirits of the Earth, heed my call!" he shouted, beckoning the primal energy to speak to the assembled leaders of the Horde's capital city.

The braziers all through Thrall's command center and fortress within Orgrimmar flared to life with new fire, as wind buffeted and rattled the banners that hung from the ceiling. The other Shaman added their own beckoning and calls to Thralls, and together the Shaman of the Horde and the Earthen Ring implored of the elements to tell them of what had occurred.

In his mind's eye, Thrall saw fire, great pillars of fire within the ashen wastes of the Burning Steppes, "The Firelord…" Gortura stated, also clearly seeing the vision that had taken Thrall. The scene continued as a swelling of mortal champions fought with the great elemental lord of the Firelands, and overcame him, casting him down from the molten core of Blackrock Mountain, and banishing him back to the elemental planes.

But the vision did not end there, as the wind stirred and revealed to Thrall the banners and colors of the group who vanquished the most dangerous of the lords of the four elements: white lightning upon a blue mountain, a most ancient and until recently extinct clan of orcs. Their leader's face came to Thrall's attention. He had never met the Warlock Gul'dan in life, but he had had the orc described to him many times by various individuals, Orgrim Doomhammer being chief of these, and he was certain that the orc matched the description perfectly.

But even as he watched, the orc's face shimmered and change to that of a young human, barely into this thirtieth year of life, with a sinister gleam in the red eyes, so clearly full of Fel energy and the hatred of the Burning Legion backing him.

Then, like the rushing of mighty waters the vision vanished from him, and all things returned to normal, although the elements were still distressed at the change of power in fire. "I understand now," Thrall said to the room at large.

"How can it be?" Zor replied, seating himself upon the fur covered floor of the keep, "the Stormreaver clan was eliminated during the second war, there is no possible way that they survived in any fashion, let alone in numbers enough to conquer the Lord of Fire."

"Warchief…" said a voice from the shadows, and Thrall turned to see his trusted friend, and leader of the Darkspear Trolls, Vol'jin, emerge to speak, "if what ya told us be true regardin' da Stormreavers, we be better off knowin' what dey be up to in da Eastern Kingdoms…"

Despite the difficulty that many had with understanding the Darkspear's accent when they spoke orcish, Thrall had no difficultly comprehending the troll leader's desire to sent scouts and spies to find out what was going on in the Burning Steppes.

"I agree Vol'jin, we should send several spies to go keep an eye on things," the Warchief stated, immediately being agreed with by all parties nearby.

"The Earthen Ring will send some of its Geomancers to accompany any scouting party into that land," Gotura added, speaking in the capacity of representative of the group of powerful Shaman, "If this group of warlocks was strong enough to overcome an elemental lord, we must be aware of their movements."

"Especially given that that mountain is the last know region of Blackhand's offspring and the renegade orcish clans," Nazgrel added, turning to look at his Warchief, "I know an orc who is perfect for leading this mission: Nazgrim, my son."

Thrall nodded, understanding his advisors desire to watch his son succeed in such an important mission, and there was no denying that the young orc was more than capable, as one of the youngest of the new Ko'kron guards, he had shown admiral strength and loyalty, even to a fault.

"I agree with Nazgrel's choice of leader, Warchief," Farseer Zor added, "and I will offer the usage of several of my shaman to support the Earthen Ring's efforts."

"Da Darkspear will send as many as ya command, Warchief," Vol'jin commented, and Thrall felt the power of their unity surging through the whole of Orgrimmar. The Horde was more powerful than it had ever been in many ages, now that they were free of Demonic corruption and united by bands of honor and loyalty.

That was, aside from one member of their united front.

"We should send word to Lady Sylvanas of this development," Thrall said, turning to look at the Forsaken's only representatives in his throne room, the Dark Cleric Cecille, as well as a few Forsaken Deathguards. The surprising bid for alliance from the Forsaken to the Horde was not looked upon by many as a good thing for the Horde, but Thrall was more than willing to give the Banshee Queen her chance to prove her loyalty.

"What says the Undercity?" Thrall said, when the human corpse made no motion or reply for a moment.

"We are grateful for the consideration of our voice in this matter, Warchief," the undead priest stated diplomatically, "but I would need to confer with the Dark Lady directly before I can give a definite answer."

"We shall have one of the Darkspear Mages open a portal for you to communicate with her then." Thrall stated, having known that that would be the answer he was given. For all her representative authority, the Forsaken were more or less bound to the will of Sylvanas, whether the Queen saw or cared about this or not, and they lacked time for a message to be drafted and sent across the sea, let alone waiting for the reply.

The Forsaken delegates bowed and departed, bound for the Valley of Spirits where the Darkspear trolls dwelled in the city, with a short note written by Vol'jin to permit their use of a mage's skill to communicate with the Undercity.

Raising a hand to forestall the words against the Undead from his advisors, who already knew Thrall's stance on the matter. It made no difference whether they received aide from the Forsaken, they were going forward with this scouting party, but having the Banshee Queen's blessing might make their plans easier to accomplish, as she was the only faction leader on the continent, which gave their scouting party resources and assistance if they needed it.

Surprisingly quickly, the representatives of the Undercity returned, bowing as they entered Grommash Hold. "The Dark Lady has granted her blessing, and will support whatever force you send through the Undercity to their objective."

Thrall nodded. It wasn't much, but it was something to work with, "Thank you, we will send our chosen groups via Zepplin to supply with her in short order."

"I will summon my son and his troops," Nazgrel stated, turning to depart. Thrall turned back toward his throne, still worried about the change in the elements and this new faction. This was not something that the Horde could afford to ignore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prince Anduin Wrynn, the technical boy-king of Stormwind, sat uncomfortably upon his father's throne in Stormwind Keep, listening intently as his regent, Highlord Bolvar Fordragon, as well as his advisor, the Lady Katrana Prestor, spoke in hushed whispers as a delegation from Ironforge arrived.

Anduin himself was always rather friendly to those from the dwarven mountain, and if he had more opportunity to do so, he would have spent much time in the dwarven district of Stormwind, but both Bolvar and Katrana did not appreciate the amount of time that he spent on such 'frivolous' things that took him away from learning everything he needed to know to rule the kingdom.

Never mind that Anduin was sure his father would return, and he would have little need to learn everything to become king for a long time yet, but often he would submit to their wishes, if only for them to lower their guard so he could sneak out of the Keep and wander the streets, meeting the people and adventurers that so often walked among the citizens of his city. Most of the time Anduin would admit that he was seeking for anyone that had news of his father, but thus far none had offered anything more than what he already knew.

Returning his attention to the representatives of King Mangi, who Anduin treated more like an Uncle than a foreign dignitary, Anduin listened in on the reports from the areas north of Stormwind, the volcanic rises of Blackrock and the orc infested grounds around the dark mountain.

"Aye, something is very wrong in those mountains," he was saying as Anduin started paying attention, "Da Dark Irons started fleein in all directions soon after a new batch o' orcs showed up in da mountains. Seems mighty suspicious if yer ask me 'bout it…"

Both Lady Prestor and Bolvar exchanged glances at that. "Yes, I agree that we ought to send some Alliance troops to scout the area, and find out just what is going on." Bolvar agreed, even as Lady Prestor nodded.

"If something has tipped the fine balance of that mountain, the Alliance must be aware," Lady Prestor added, "Stormwind is too close if something is brewing, and we may need to set additional watches upon the walls and boarders of Elwynn."

"Thank ye m'lady," the dwarf replied, before shooting a bemused glance at Anduin, which was a signal of greeting from his Uncle, before bowing to the two leaders of Stormwind and departing.

"This does not bode well for the current climate between the Alliance and Horde," Bolvar added, as the pair returned closer to the throne, where Anduin could better hear and chime in on their conversation.

"No, but we need to see to our boarders above all else." Lady Prestor stated, "It could be that the Horde itself is trying to recruit more of the Blackrock orcs to their banner, and plan some sort of assault on Stormwind."

"You read far too deeply into their motivations," Bolvar countered, seemingly irritated at Lady Prestor's constant attempts to implicate the Horde in matter of betrayal.

"I doubt that Thrall would willingly sink low enough to plotting with those orcs against us," Anduin chimed in, "He's too honorable, and dosen't want war with our people."

"It may seem that way, my Prince," Lady Prestor said, her voice condescending, as though Anduin knew very little of what he spoke about, "but that is what they would want you to think moments before they attacked." Turning back to Bolvar, she continued, "Better to be safe rather than face the consequences…"

"As always, you are correct, my Lady," Bolvar conceded, nodding his head. A guard approached the trio, halting as they turned their attention to him. "My Lords, Lady," the guard said, "There is another person here concerning a matter of refugees from the south. A Lady Narcissa Malfoy wishes an audience."

"Show her in," Bolvar replied, even as Lady Prestor narrowed her eyes. Anduin wasn't sure why she was so against helping their people, but often her advise was well sounded and logical, so he decided to just watch and continue learning what he could from the pair of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Narcissa cautiously approached the grand seeming throne for the King of Stormwind, suddenly somewhat uncertain of her choice to petition for housing to purchase for her people within the city. Firstly, she was confused by the fact that a young boy, no more than ten, was sitting on the throne with the clothes of royalty, but the two advisors standing near to the boy were equally intimidating.

The man, whom she could guess was regent, seemed like an open and kinder man to her eyes, but it was the woman that Narcissa was uncomfortable with. With her extremely dark hair and almost fiery eyes, Narcissa felt that there was something extremely dangerous and unnatural about this woman, but she was not in a place to question such things, or even comment upon the other woman, especially since she was wearing equally elaborate robes and carrying a staff of office, meaning that her word was equally powerful to the regents.

Narcissa bowed, more toward the young boy, a prince if she assumed correctly, upon the throne. "I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Lords and Lady," she said humbly, "and I come before you on behalf of my people, who recently escaped from the most recent attack upon Nethergarde Keep, deep in the Blasted Lands."

The pair of adults exchanged glances, as clearly news of such an attack had not reached their ears yet. "And why," the woman stated, her voice as cold as steel in Narcissa's ears, "would a woman of such regal bearing be the one to lead and represent such a group of refugees? Would not your husband, or another nobleman be more likely to take charge and lead?"

Narcissa had prepared long and hard for such questions. She guessed correctly that this was a patriarchal society, and therefore an explanation for the lack of men would be in order, "all our husbands, fathers and young men had to remain behind to safeguard our escape, especially through the treacherous wilds of the swamps, with orcs and all manner of foul creatures that would have slaughtered us along the way. I do not know how many survived, and we have heard nothing of them."

Narcissa had allowed something of a sorrowful tug into her voice, which she was sure melted some of the hesitancy around the heart of the regent, although it did nothing to thaw the icy temperament of the woman. "I do not think…" she started, but the prince interrupted her, "We will gladly look into this matter for you, my Lady," the boy said, sitting up straight in the throne and suddenly appearing far older and more mature than his age suggested.

"Furthermore," the boy continued, overriding the woman as she sought to regain control of the conversation, "I wish for there to be housing arrangements made for your people, within the protective walls of Stormwind, and our in the lands of Elwynn Forest, if we cannot even protect our people, what good are we as their rulers?"

Whatever Narcissa was expecting to happen, it wasn't that it would be this easy to procure what she desired. "I am most grateful, my prince," she said, turning back to the regent and their advisor, "we have much in the way of gold, wherewith we hoped to pay for such residents, if it would help speed the process of relocating our people within the capital. Currently we are filling every inn all the way to Goldshire, with more seeking shelter at Northshire Abby in the meantime."

"Dear Lady," the Regent said stepping forward, clearly motivated by the graciousness of his prince, "We will do all we can to make sure that adequate lodgings for every family is made, with room and furnishings within the budgets you may provide, and what charity we can afford from the royal coffers and other sources. I doubt that the church of the Light, nor the Northshire Clerics would tolerate anyone to be so destitute after fleeing the monsters at the Dark Portal."

"I… I am overwhelmed at your generosity, my Lord," Narcissa said, equal parts sincere and flattering, even as the man took hold of her hand, planting his lips to the back of it in true knightly fashion.

"Please," he said, meeting her eyes, the sincerity burning within them like a fire "Highlord Bolvar Fordragon, at your service."

Narcissa wasn't so blind by the man's courteousness to fail to notice the frigid glare that the woman was sending her. It seemed more than mere jealously at her stealing the affection of a man from her, but more as though Narcissa had encroached on her domain, and was stealing away some measure of control or power that she held.

It was interesting, and something that Narcissa wanted to investigate further, as the role of politics so often taken up by Lucius was something she had grown quite adept and rather fond of participating in. "I am most thankful for the kind and considerate reception of your hall, my prince," she added, returning attention to the young boy, who seemed to have also noticed the icy demeanor of his advisor. There was something being played at here, and Narcissa didn't like it for one second.

"Stormwind will do whatever it can for its citizens, wherever they came from," the boy said sagely. "I will have the guards take you to the land distributers in the city, so that you may do business with them," the boy stated, reaching for a wax seal, imprinted with the face of a lion, "this will guarantee that they will be as helpful as possible for your needs," he said, passing the seal to Bolvar, who in turned gave it to Narcissa.

"We wish you well in your endeavors, my Lady," the Highlord stated, and Narcissa bowed to the collective group once more, feeling the icy chill of the woman's eyes on her back until she left sight of the room.

Having what she desired of the Lords of Stormwind, and one major objective complete, Narcissa was free to let her mind wander to the events of the throne room in greater detail. She wanted desperately to find out what was going on there, but naturally it would prove most difficult to get closer to the Prince and the Regent to determine what that advisor was up to, but she had achieved more difficult things in the past.

It was simply another challenging bit of political maneuvering, on a new stage, which was rather refreshing to do, without all the trappings that her name usually carried when she endeavored anything back in the old Wizarding World.

Until that time that Narcissa could find a reason to return to the presence of the rulers of this nation however, she would content herself in the work she had initially been sent here for: finding housing in convenient locations for their people to spy on the human settlements in the area, and forwarding the information to those who were more closely associated with Nobu'tan.

Once reaching the offices of those in charge of distributing land to those who could afford it, Narcissa was show a registry of vacant plots of land and abandoned houses and farmsteads throughout not only Stormwind and the forest of Elywnn, but also the rolling plains of Westfall, the darker forest of Duskwood across the southern river, and the western valley of the Redridge Mountains.

Knowing that they would want to cast their net as wide as possible, Narcissa selected a large selection of areas throughout Stormwind's boarders. As part of the deal, she was able to make plans to go about and visit the many locations over the next week, before any final payments had to be made. The ones within the city she opted to investigate immediately however, knowing that the sooner they got moved into permanent residences and out of the inns and taverns all around Stormwind, the less attention they would arouse all together.

"I'd like to visit this location first," she said after making her last selection, indicating one of the addresses, located in a part of the city that was termed the 'Mage's Quarter.' From what the description said, if her reading of the Common tongue that these humans used on this world was accurate, it was a rather modest two-story home that could also be partially converted into a place of business, as many of the homes within the city were known for doing, with all the soldiers and adventurers that travelled through seeking various items.

The orderly in charge of monitoring their records nodded, calling for a young boy that was serving as a page to lead the way, and Narcissa found herself moving through the busy Trade District of the city toward the canal area.

Even as they entered the magically charge section of the city, which sported a large grassy area in the center with a tower rising over the buildings, with men and women in robes moving from place to place, speaking about all manner of things, Narcissa almost felt as though she had returned to Diagon Alley. Granted, none of the buildings came close to the elegance that had been Malfoy Manor, but there was something quaint about the modesty of the buildings, and the almost homely architecture that pervaded the area.

She had never seen the home of the Weasleys back on their home world, but the buildings here gave the same feeling that Narcissa had imagined that the large Pureblood family's dwelling must have. Surprisingly, when she laid eyes on the first location, which was near to the center ring which housed the mage tower, she felt a powerful pull towards the building on a personal level, and in her mind's eye she could see her and Lucius settling down here, relaxing in the cool summer sun while Draco visiting with some girl that he had met on his adventures our in the wide landscapes of this world.

It was not something that they would have even considered, back when the Malfoy name had so many strings attached to it with regards to pomp and prestige, but here they were just a strange family with very good taste and high standards, and if Narcissa were to dare suggest it, she felt a measure of freedom in that lack of responsibility to old fashioned Pureblood dogma.

It must have been something similar to this that had driven her sister Andromeda away from the family, to go and marry a muggleborn wizard and become a housewife, rather than pursue the future that their parents had drilled into the from the time that they were infants.

"I'll take this one," she said after a long time of just staring at the front of the small home. She felt in her heart that she made the right decision, and somehow Narcissa was sure that Lucius would love it just as much as she did, after she found furnishings and other items to make the empty building into a home truly worthy of their presence, and the love that their family had for each other.

The page, a young man scarcely older than the Prince, nodded and made a crude mark on a sheet of parchment that he had been given as they departed the offices in the Trade District, before beginning to lead the way to the next location, further in the Mage Quarter and close to a tavern that the boy seemed leery of, which had a sign reading that the establishment was named the Slaughtered Lamb. It was a crude name, but Narcissa couldn't afford to be too picky when it came to finding housing for their many human families, and she moved along to examine the location itself.

Someone of their group would be able to find a use for this location, she thought, and after making sure that there were no safety hazards or sanitation concerns, she also pledged to purchase the location as well.

For several hours she toured the city, becoming rather familiar with the streets and the flow of foot traffic within the bounds of Stormwind, acquiring a few choice locations in the various districts of the city, even a pair in the famous 'Old Town,' which were rather expensive, but well placed for their purposes.

She was still glad to be finished afterward, and after promising to return to the offices in the Trade District the next day to finalize the purchases she had selected, and schedule out when she would go to tour the locations outside the city, Narcissa retired to the inn where she was staying, with a few of the other women and children of the Earth refugees.

She told them all everything she had found, including her wonderful feelings that she had had with regards to the locations she had chosen, and it seemed to bring a measure of comfort to those who had found room in the Gilded Rose, which was rather crowded normally with adventurers staying at the city to do business with the massive bank and trading center that were both located in the same square as the inn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore watched the tide of demons and their corrupted allies wash over his world with a wave of sadness. There were few places where one could truly be safe from the Legion on earth anymore, and his forces were making full use of every available resource they could save from the devouring ilk.

But this, at the guidance of the Naaru _K'uri_ , this was something that would hopefully allow them to at last take the offensive back against the demons. Surprisingly, the gateway of Avalon was one of the locations that the demons seemed to avoid at all costs, so the resistance made one of their strongholds here, fortifying what they could and proceeding to tap into the last remaining magics of their dying world to keep the fight going.

When the Naaru, who rarely left the security of the now heavily fortified and defended Hogwarts, beckoned Albus to go and free Merlin _and_ Morgan from Avalon, to fight against the Legion, he was both surprised and shocked. They had spent so much time to defeat that woman, and in the process, they had lost their world when Nobu'tan had been allowed to move unchecked during that time, but to release her once more?

But, the Naaru had not steered them astray yet, and Albus, as now a powerful Mage and Priest of the Light, could tell that this course was the right direction for them to proceed. They needed all the help they could get, and even Morgan was a foe of the Legion. Their world was lost if they did nothing, so if she turned on them and destroyed it anyway they would just be in the same situation all over again, so he would obey.

The demons would be sure to know the moment they started to open the gateway to Avalon, and so Albus had entrusted his Generals, Sirius Black, Alastor Moody, and the young man Colin Creevey, to the defense of the small island as they called forth the Guardian to their aide.

Through the tutelage of the Naaru, they had all had their eyes opened to new possibilities in the learning of various magics, primarily that of the Light, but indeed there were others ,such as Alastor becoming very acquainted with the very elements of Earth, and commanding them to his aide, gathering great storms of lightning and molten magma to hurl at his enemies, while both Sirius and Colin had taken up weapons blessed by the light for the protection of their people, and retribution against the foul demons that encroached on their world.

But for others, there were many different paths. They had been lucky to rescue Remus Lupin from one demonic enslavement camp, where they had narrowly stopped the foul creatures from forcing the wizard professor from drinking the blood of a demon, and forever stealing him from them in the maddening rage that their foul covenant produced.

The Naaru even knew how to forever tame and control Lupin's wolf form, which was now his permanent skin that he wore, expect when he shapeshifted to various other animals and creatures, which ability he was given with the blessings of nature itself that he was given to overcome his curse.

Even as Albus thought of the man, he appeared, in his sleek and stealthy feline form, and transformed back before them. His voice was changed, gone was the soothing tenor that it had been as a man, replaced with a harsher gravel that was the mixing of wolf and man vocal cords, "They know that something is about to happen," he said, reporting his mission of scouting the surrounding area for signs of the Legion. "They have all manner of forces just waiting for the right signal to attack."

"Then here is where we must make a stand," Albus concluded, turning back to the exact spot where he knew the rift between their world and Avalon existed, "We must wake the Guardian, and unleash Avalon once more into this world, it will buy us all more time to fight the Legion."

"Whatever you wish, Albus," Sirius declared, unsheathing his sword and readying his shield, "We will fight to the bitter end to push these demons from our world."

"Then we shall begin." Albus affirmed, turning to the group of mage-priests that had gathered at his call, including many from Hermione Granger's old group, and the young woman herself, who all had been busily etching rune around the location of the portal, so that they could begin the ritual to open Avalon.

"It is ready," she stated simply, the Light within her singing its ferocious desire to fight the Legion.

"Everyone to your positions," Albus instructed, even as their defenders ran to the perimeter, and the first sounds of the demonic advance began.

Calling their mutual powers to this world, Albus channeled the Arcane, even as he beckoned the Holy light to shine upon them, weaving the storm of magic from this world and beyond into the air, forming the key that would undo the Fel seals placed so many years ago by Nobu'tan.

They would tear that vile magic away from the gateway, and unleash the forces of nature upon the demons once again.

However, even as their holy ritual began, Albus could sense the approach of the demonic forces, eager to tear them apart and prevent their goal, even if it meant approaching that place that they had thus far avoided. Colin Creevey was shouting his commands, even as flares of magic, both Holy, Arcane and Fel alike, flew in every direction.

Albus was facing away from the battle, and for that small detail he was grateful. It tore at his heart to watch his forces battle the Legion, all the more when he was absorbed in a delicate ritual that he could not depart from to aide and protect them with his magic and healing. Restraining his desperation and concentrating at the task at hand, Albus drove onward, incanting the words of Light and the Arcane that would activate the gateway to sacred Avalon, as well as purge the Fel locking the way from their reunion with Merlin.

With a surge of Holy fire, raining down from above, Albus sensed the Fel seal that Nobu'tan had placed so long ago melt away like dross in the face of a furnace. And with the darkness purged away, Albus was surprised to find that the doorway sprang open with a vengeance, and the towering figure on the other side, his eye glowing with indignation was Merlin.

Even as he stepped forward, a darkness flared to life behind him, and Albus could sense that Morgan was already free, striding out side by side with him. "From within we could sense the approach of the Legion," Merlin explained, "and we have already come to the conclusion that the world is in far more peril than we could stand. We stand ready to fight, with all the forces of Avalon at our side!"

Raiding his arms to the sky, the portal surged wide open, and Albus could see through into the sacred land, which looked like a more perfect reflection of the way things had been before the Legion appeared. From every shadow under those emerald trees, figures emerged, creatures that Albus had only heard of in myth and tales, both muggle and wizarding.

Merlin raised his plain oaken staff, pointing it toward the advancing line of demons, already well engaged with their forces, "Smite the defilers of the land!" he roared, and as one the armies of Avalon shouted their challenge and reply, charging forward upon foot and hoof, root and wing, even as a myriad of creatures that Albus had only dreamed of seeing surged forward, the natural world springing to life once more around the edges of the portal as they crossed back into the world of mortals.

Albus turned, seeing that they had arrived not a moment too soon. Colin and Sirius were already locked in deadly combat with a Pit Lord, while Alastor and several others exchanged a deadly display of magic with several Eredar conjurers and warlocks, the vile fiends using their horrific magic to tear the land asunder under their feet.

Merlin seemed to rise in the midst of them all, his eyes glowing with fire and lightning, even as he raised a hand to the heavens. Stormclouds, black and terrible gathered at his beckoning, and a mighty wind surged from all directions as the elements of the earth answered the call of the Guardian of Avalon. "Storm, Earth and Fire, heed my call!" Merlin chanted, even as great spikes of molten earth erupted around them, skewering various demons and their evil allies where they stood, and lightning crashed upon others, frying them in an instant.

The creatures of Avalon poured through the ranks of the defenders of Earth, countering the Demonic advance and breaking their lines, pressing them backward to the defense, and allowing the forces of humanity a moment's reprieve to rest and heal their wounded with the grace of the Light.

Albus turned, and spied even Morgan tending to the injured, although her manner of healing was most unusual. She wielded the power of the shadows, this Albus knew, and that it drastically opposed the Light in every way and form, but even as she mended wounds with it, Albus could tell that they had more to lose than by allying with such a one as her.

She was but one woman, whom they had defeated before, whereas the Legion was infinite, and a threat that would not depart until they drove them from their world, one Fel portal at a time.

"There is no time to lose," Merlin said, reappearing at Albus' side, "The forces of Avalon will not linger here long before they must return to their own realm, and they will guard this place forevermore from the Legion, so long as there is life upon this world free of their malice. Meanwhile, we must withdraw to your fortress, and plan for the continued assault that is sure to come in retaliation."

Albus nodded, understanding that the they would not be gaining an overwhelming advantage in the long term from the natural world, however they had gained a victory. It wouldn't have been long before the Legion attacked the locked portal to try and destroy it and seal the Guardian in forever.

With the aid of both Merlin and Morgan, they would have a chance to hold out even longer. Presumably _K'uri_ was hinting that there was only a limit amount of time that they needed to hold out before something arrived, some sort of reinforcements from out in the Nether. What that comprised of, Albus did not know, but whatever it was, he was more than willing to hold out as long as needed to meet these reinforcements that had been fighting against the Legion for years, if not millennia.

"Prepare portals and Portkeys, while the armies of Avalon have them on the defensive." Albus commanded. Swirls of blue enveloped around the battlefield as their warrior departed back to base, and Albus himself conjured the portal required to take them back to the safety of Hogwarts.

Albus was about to offer for Merlin to go on ahead, but Morgan strode through the pair of them, "What a gentleman…" she said sarcastically as she stepped through the portal, and Albus shared a meaningful look with Merlin. Despite their predicament, and the fact that she was on their side this time, nothing would change about the vindictive nature of the woman. She had clearly not forgotten nor forgave their involvement with her recapture after Nobu'tan had released her.

"She's held longer grudges…" Merlin said with a shrug as he entered the portal, "you get used to it after a few decades…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan returned multiple times to try and wring more information out of Rend Blackhand, and to his credit he was able to at least hash out a small plan of distraction out of the orc, once he sobered up and was thinking more clearly.

The orcs and their allies within the Horde would continue their vigil in the lower parts of Blackrock spire, and on word from their Warchief they would fight back against the dragonkin only after the knowledge that Nefarias was defeated would they strike, which Nobu'tan felt was rather ungrateful of them to still lack trust in the Stormreavers, but he could understand that they were still newly made members of the Horde, and therefore there would be a period of building their reputation.

What he was able to get out of the Warchief however, was a quick method to reach the higher areas of the mountain, where the majority of the powerful dragonkin and those closest to the human remained. Apparently, there was a magical orb that would transport them to the higher levels without having to traverse through the areas that the orcs, trolls and ogres monitored and protected.

This pleased Nobu'tan greatly, and he had checked profusely that the same group that had ventured into the bowels of the mountain were ready to take on the challenges that awaited freeing the peak, and securing the Horde's control of the mountain in totality.

They would need approximately another day to prepare for the assault of the mountaintop, and the warlocks were all enwrapped in creating items to protect them from dragonfire, as even though they had no true dragons to be concerned with, the drakes and dragonkin had the same abilities, to lesser power, and the more they prevented their people from getting injured, the less strain of their priests and shaman to heal them.

Nobu'tan desperately wanted to avoid another situation where he feared one of his trusted would actually fall, like Lucius had against the Firelord. Only the quick thinking of the goblin priest had saved him, but it was something that the orc-raised human felt that they could have avoided with more preparation.

So they would go cautiously this time, and make sure that they sent as many disposable demons ahead of their actual forces, to risk as little as possible as they claimed the rest of Blackrock for the Horde.

Then, and only then, would Nobu'tan have the leverage he needed to get all the answers from Warchief Rend he desired. The orc would sing the tune that the warlock demanded, or else the fool might find himself disposed far quicker than he had even expected. Nobu'tan could easily find another that could rally the Horde to move as he willed, much as Gul'dan placed Blackhand on the throne in the first place so long ago.


	59. C58: Blackwing's Lair

**Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! Many good comments, and high hopes for the future. Please enjoy the next, and as always, R &R! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty Eight**

 **Blackwing's Lair**

Draco felt somewhat nervous as they climbed the interior of the mountain, set off on their next great adventure to retake the last and highest points of the spire. Not only did the new equipment that Nobu'tan demand for them all sit strangely on his body, heavily prepared to defend them against fire and flame alike, but Lucius was in perfectly good spirits.

Draco was not comfortable with his father heading straight back into the fray so soon, especially since the man had died, and Draco was still rather shaken that such an event had transpired. For a few deadening moments, he had been the head of the House of Malfoy, and he had no idea what he was to do, how he would continue their line or care for his mother.

It was something that he had not as of yet expressed to his father, due to their lack of time to do much aside from rest from the previous ordeal and prepare for the next, but it was at the top of his list of things to discuss the moment they could.

Still, as they marched along to an upper chamber recessed in the walls of the mountain, he wondered if he would have the option, or if Lucius would perish again, and this time there be no quick-thinking healer to start the ritual to restore his body and bring him back to life.

So, he stuck close to his father as they approached the massive red orb, set in gold and gleaming as the massive group of Stormreavers approached. Nobu'tan, at the lead, explained that the orb would react to them only because Warchief Rend Blackhand had set several of his guards to work it for them, the grey-skinned orcs nodding as he mentioned them, and the warlock proceeded to give them instruction on what to do as they arrived on the other side.

"From what I have gathered, the first chamber is a large hatchery, so we will congregate in the corridor just before it, and prepare our battle lines in the event that it is heavily defended. There is little reason that they would leave eggs unprotected, so expect heavy resistance. Do not destroy the eggs however, dragon eggs are highly volatile if not taken out in a specific manner, what we need to do is secure whatever items are within, and see if there is a means for us to dispose of the eggs quickly and without rupturing them, or else even our new protections will not save us."

Draco felt his heart clench at the thought of such a quick and fiery death, but Nobu'tan nodded at the orcs next to the orb, who then placed their massive hands upon it. One by one, their forty-man assault team stepped forward and touched the orb, vanishing in a pillar of fire.

Draco was unwilling to release his father's hand, but with a reassuring squeeze from Lucius he allowed his father to touch the orb alone, quickly followed by Draco himself. The corridor was just as Nobu'tan had described, and the warlock was already deep in concentration, clearly scouting ahead with an eye of Kil'rogg. "It's not as defended as I expected," Nobu'tan was saying as he meditated for the spell, "only three orcs using an orb of domination to control the hatchery keeper, clearly the only one able to disturb the eggs without fiery results."

"What is your plan?" Teg'Ramm said, the ogre mage having a keen insight into the workings of their leader, and clearly could tell that Nobu'tan was already scheming their attack.

"I want one group to go straight for that control orb, I will take it for us and have the dragonkin start destroying the eggs safely." Nobu'tan hastily explained, "I doubt that we'll have long before reinforcements arrive however, so I want the others to spread out and keep them off of both myself and the dragonkin while it works. Once the last egg is gone we will turn and slay the beast as well before moving on."

Draco nodded, understanding the rather simple and straightforward plan. Voldemort, Teg'Ramm and a few of the Fel Centaur took the lead with Nobu'tan, even as they prepared to charge out and take the small rise with the orb.

"Now!" Nobu'tan yelled, and together they burst into the room, leveling spells and ranged attacks at the trio of orcs by the orb. The leader seemed to lose control and focus, and the Dragonkin roared as it started to stomp down its side of the room, its four legs swaying its entire misshapen body was it lumbered toward them.

There was a thunderous crack, and Nobu'tan appeared behind the orcs, immediately taking command of the orb by placing a hand upon it, and a beam of blue magical energy shot out and struck the dragonkin, which froze in place instantly, before slowly turning and plunging a claw into one of the closest eggs, the flames of its boy charring and destroying the unborn creature within.

Even as the now controlled dragonkin started slowly around the room, going from egg to egg as quickly as its body allowed, Draco, Lucius and the other spread out around the edges of the room, noting that there were many openings that could easily allow man sized figures entry from locations unknown.

Lucius and Draco ended up on the platform, each flanking Nobu'tan as he concentrated on the orb, and they watched carefully for signs of advancing enemies, when an alarm seemed to sound from somewhere deeper within the spire, and a great movement of many bodies started.

"Here they come…" Draco announced, noticing a small twitch from Nobu'tan in reaction. He was aware, but unable to act or defend himself.

The dragonkin was about halfway through the room when the first squad of Blackrock orcs appeared, seemingly confused at the sight of so many of their fellows attacking their section of the mountain, and for their moments of indecision they suffered, as a barrage of spells took them down before they had a chance to decide what to do.

The following groups made no mistakes however, but charged in and started attacking the dragonkin, attempting to prevent it from destroying the eggs, or at the least slow it down or sever the mental connection it had to the orb.

Wand drawn, and curses on his lips, Draco allowed his magic to flow freely, along with the power of the Fel, and rain destruction down upon the entire group, uncaring if he harmed the dragonkin as well, so long as the beast was not killed in the process.

Unfortunately, the taxing power of the orb seemed to eventually overwhelm even Nobu'tan's strong mind, and the warlock staggered back, breaking the connection with only a few eggs left, and the dragonkin roared in rage and pain, turning upon them with a vengeance.

"He'll detonate the eggs if we kill him before they're gone!" Nobu'tan shouted, and Draco ran through several options in his mind. He could jump to the orb and try to wrestle control of the beast himself, but the last remaining eggs were next to them on the platform. If he failed, the dragonkin would be upon them swiftly, and he wasn't willing to risk losing his father or anyone close to him again.

"What if we vanish the eggs?" he said hastily, using a curse to slow the dragonkin as it started toward them, fury in its eyes.

"Do it! Quickly," Nobu'tan shouted in response, leveling a blast of chaotic magic at an orc that was charging in from higher up the spire.

Spinning, Draco prayed to the old gods of his people as he pointed his wand at the nearest egg, hoping that it wouldn't react to the magic he cast as he uttered the incantation for the vanishing charm.

The egg glowed brightly for a moment, before fading from existence completely, leaving nothing but the settling dust that had covered it to fall to the ground. Sighing in relief, Draco went to work on the last two eggs, vanishing each slowly and carefully as the battle raged around him.

"It's done!" he shouted as the last one vanished with a tiny pop, and Teg'Ramm bellowed a challenging roar as he charged headlong into the Dragonkin, unleashed from trying to keep the beast alive at last.

The entire group of forty turned as one upon the massive reptilian creature, pouring torrents of magic and enchanted steel upon it, flaying its hide from its body in their vengeance to destroy it utterly. The remaining orcs, seeing the cruelty in their foes upon the dragonkin, fled in all directions, disappearing into the many holes and passages beyond as the beast fell in a heap, its black blood flowing across the stones.

Even as it lay dying, Teg'Ramm brought a massive hammer down upon the beast's head, ending its pitiful life with one thorough, crushing blow. Nobu'tan breathed out a long sigh, and the rest of them relaxed from the spur of battle, recovering what strength they could for the moment, even though Draco knew that they still had quite some ways to go yet.

He almost wanted to roll his eyes when some of the others, goblins mostly, discovered small caches of treasure that had been left here, presumable by the orcs that were controlling the dragonkin when they arrived, but they quickly stored it away on those who had the most space in their packs, preparing swiftly to move on before too many reinforcements could be put in place against them.

The passage ahead was short, and the flurry of movement that erupted as they entered as disturbing to Draco and their first few others inside. Granted, he was minorly distracted from the fleeing forms that he later registered were goblins. The source of the distraction was lying in the very center of the room, dominating all space with its massive bulk.

From its gleaming crimson scales, Draco could only presume that it was not part of the same obsidian faction that surrounded the mountain, especially since the massive dragon seemed to be in pain, shuddering from the beam of magic that shot into it from some figure in a shadowed section of the room.

"Ah, the Heroes… you are persistent, aren't you?" the figure said, stepping into the light and revealing it to be some sort of man, although Draco could tell that something was drastically off about this human, "Your Ally here attempted to match his power against mine...and paid the price. Now he shall serve me, by slaughtering you."

Turning to focus on the red dragon, the man continued, "Get up little Red Wyrm, and destroy them!" The man vanished in a plume of black smoke even as the dragon obeyed, muscle shuddering with what Draco thought was every ounce of resistance that the beast could offer.

Even as he readied his wand, and wondered how they would face off against an animal so large and powerful, the dragon shocked him by speaking, "Too late, friends! Nefarius' corruption has taken hold... I cannot... control myself."

Unsure of what to make of this, Draco glanced at Nobu'tan, wondering if their leader had any clue of what they could do, but Nobu'tan held firm, his grasp on his staff unfaltering. "I beg you, mortals… FLEE! Flee before I lose all sense of control! The black fire rages within my heart! I MUST… release it!" the dragon continued, its eyes wheeling wildly as it attempted to shake off some force that was binding it to the will of another.

Draco glanced at Nobu'tan again, hoping they weren't thinking of fighting such a creature once he lost control, and spotted what he had missed the first time. Nobu'tan was chanting under his breath, already preparing spells and traps for the beast once it fell to the domination around it. Looking back, he found that Lucius was already preparing likewise, weaving fire protection charms around them and readying his deadliest curses for battle.

Draco hastened to do the same, even as the dragon spoke a third time. "FLAME! DEATH! DESTRUCTION! Cower, mortals before the wrath of Lord... NO… I MUST fight this! Alexstrasza help me, I MUST fight it!"

But it was no use, there was a massive roar as the beast succumbed to the maddening control that was being influenced over it, and rose up higher still, flames pouring from its mouth in an attempt to incinerate several of them, but by the time it had done so, their massive force had already encircled the beast, attacking it from all sides. The dragon fire slammed into the shields and barriers that were erected to protect them, and while Draco felt the uncomfortable rise in heat, there was no hint of scorching or fire on his skin, and he knew that they were safe for the moment from the flames. The massive claws, teeth and tail on the other hand were another matter altogether, and they started to move as the whip-like cord of muscle slammed into the ground where they had been standing, slinging spells as they went from wand and the Fel.

Dodging to the side, Draco noticed a passage leading to a ramp and the balconies above. "Father, this way," he said hurriedly, leading Lucius and a number of their other casters toward the upper landings, well out of range of the flashing claws and teeth of the dragon.

From there, they were able to settle down a heavy barrage of projectiles onto the dragon, aiming for whatsoever place they could find a weakness. Lucius leveled his wand on the eyes of the great dragon, muttering a curse that Draco did not know, and watched as the beast staggered back, closing its eye where the spell had struck and shaking its head vigorously. "Conjunctivitis curse," Lucius explained as the battle continued, "very powerful against the eyes of a dragon."

The dragon however seemed to disagree with the positivity of the statement, as it raised its head to eject more flames at them, and Lucius seized Draco by the front of his robes to dive behind a pillar as the flames washed around them.

"Nefarius' hate has made me stronger than ever before! You should have fled while you could, mortals! The fury of Blackrock courses through my veins!" the dragon bellowed, rampaging around the lower section of the room as it fought with their forces, spells and blades striking it from every direction.

From several directions, bolts of pure chaos flew at the dragon, slamming into the sides of its head, knocking the beast to the ground, even as several goblins and Veela pounced upon it, talons and daggers flashing as they stabbed for the soft flesh beneath the scales.

Draco spotted Teg'Ramm push Nobu'tan aside as the tail flew out again, sending the ogre magi flying heavily into the far wall, a massive dent in the stone remaining as the ogre staggered back into the fray.

The battle raged on for what felt like a lifetime, and Draco spotted that the goblin priests and shaman were having a hard time running around to keep everyone on their feet, even when the dragon started tapping into its own magic to try and make them burn from within.

"We need to end this quickly, before we're overwhelmed," Draco shouted over the roars of the dragon.

Lucius nodded, raising his wand and taking aim, waiting for the massive head to roll around and display the remaining eye. The tail end was facing them at that moment, and at Draco's shout it lashed upward at them, and Draco knew what he had to do. Even as it collided heavily with the ledge they stood upon, Draco darted up, leaping onto the dragon itself, and ran for all he was worth up the spine, toward the head.

The dragon felt the impact and added weight instantly, and started to shake and jerk, trying to throw Draco from it, but he determinedly kept his balance, dodging the flapping wings as he crossed between them.

Only when he reached the base of the long neck did he have to stop, as the Dragon reared up and turned, facing him with its one good eye glaring balefully, fire forming in its open mouth. But Draco only smirked, even as his father's spell impacted the remaining good eye of the dragon.

Head rearing back as the fire poured harmlessly into the ceiling, Draco leapt from the dragon's back, dodging the stamping legs and thrashing tail as he retreated to the cover of fellow Stormreavers.

"It's blind, go, kill it now!" he shouted, and the others surged forward, several of the Fel centaur carrying a great chain between them to trip the powerfully muscular legs of the dragon. It fell with a scream of pain, several enchanted barbs within the links gouging deeply into its flanks as the chain was whipped under it.

With a great shudder the dragon attempted to rise once again, but the centaur, ogre magi, and their other melee fighters leapt upon it, beating the creature down every time it attempted to rise. Opening its great maw wide, the dragon attempted to unleash its flame upon them all, but Nobu'tan was prepared, pouring a torrent of Fel magic into the beast as soon as it swung open its jaws.

Clearly the inside of the dragon was not as heavily defended as its outside, as the beast's head slammed into the ground from the sudden attack, and it lay quite still, dying slowly as the group of Stormreavers backed off in case it renewed its strength and attacked again.

But, listening to the last words that it uttered, softly in a slowly dwindling voice, Draco knew that the battle here was over, and the dragon was defeated. "At last the agony ends. I have failed you my Queen... I have failed us all..." it murmured, lips around it massive teeth barely having the strength to move, sightless eyes closing for the last time.

After it finally expired, Nobu'tan turned from where he stood, taking a quick stock of their group, and smiled. Draco looked as well, and noted that there were only the barest of minor injuries, the preparations they took against the fire of the beasts having done well in protecting them, in addition to the restorative magic of their priests and shaman keeping them up and moving from the more devastating attacks.

Slowly, they picked their way around the rubble and fallen dragon and climbed the ramp that Draco himself had taken midway through the battle, rejoining Lucius and those who had followed, who were unharmed, which caused Draco to relax all the more, although his father seemed to have other ideas.

"What on earth were you thinking," he shouted, rushing forward and scooping Draco into his arms, the younger man flinching at the sudden embrace, "leaping onto a dragon like that was insane, I know I've taught you better than to do such reckless things."

"And yet that distraction was the exact thing we needed to finish it off without further harm to the rest of us…" Draco muttered in response, knowing that his father had to see that such a maneuver was a well-planned and weighed risk that Draco had taken, albeit rather spontaneous. Lucius held Draco by the shoulders, looking him dead in the eyes, "Never do something that risky again, what would I tell your mother if I lost you?"

"About the same thing that I was already working on for the last moments when we fought the elemental lord…" Draco deadpanned back. Lucius reacted as if physically struck, but released Draco, looking pained, and Draco knew that his father understood that Draco was more adult that he had first given his son credit.

"As important as such discussion is," Nobu'tan interjected, "we do have quite some ways to go, and the longer we wait the more our enemies have time to prepare for our arrival."

"Yes, of course you are right, my Lord," Lucius said, recovering quickly, but sending a look at Draco that stated flatly that they still had much yet to discuss at another time, and turned to follow their leader onward. Draco merely hoped that there would still be a later for them to discuss matters, unpleasant or otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort watched as the group of united warriors pressed forward, still deep within his own thoughts regarding the entire matter of their purpose here. True, he could agree that the orcs that they were aiding had promise, their leanings toward destruction and ruthlessness were admirable, but at the same time he could sense that there was a deeper reason for why Potter wanted to ally their group with them.

Granted, with large foes like the dragon they had just faced in the land, it would make sense to want to band together with as many allies as possible, much like the history of their home world had mentioned of the middle ages, where wizard and muggle alike strove to live in harmony to protect themselves from the rampaging magical creatures that roamed the lands without care for humans or their lives.

It hadn't been until more modern ages that the Ministry, after its formation during the Renaissances and the trickling off of anti-magical tendencies in muggle as a whole, that the tide of free range magical creatures was greatly stemmed, mainly to preserve what species were left after the muggles went on their great hunts to eliminate the most dangerous ones that they could find.

Still, even with all the evidence that pointed to a tactical and logical reason for this pursuit of the mountain fortress, Voldemort couldn't shake the feeling that there was a more personal reason behind their being here specifically. True, he was not part of the inner circles of the warlock's people, nor was he too privy to their true purpose or why the demonic Legion had their eyes on this world, and sent them ahead to do… something… but he had several pieces wherewith to form his own ideas of why they were here.

Naturally, the Legion wanted something regarding this world in particular, as was evident in how casually they had treated the invasion of old earth, but whatever that was remained a mystery, and Voldemort suspected that even their leader was unaware of what that reason might be.

The dragonkin in the next chamber swarmed them as soon as members of the Stormreavers came into view. But their forces were more than prepared, and with an assortment of strategic maneuvers forced their way into the room, driving the beasts back and slaying them. Coldly, Voldemort himself pressed on ahead in the main attack group, ready to carve even more of the black blood, which seemed to be the only rush left to his corpse of a body.

The next room however, was confusing. A long hallway, leading to another ramp-like staircase lay in their way, with hundreds of tiny dragon whelps of various colors, all seemingly ill and contained to the ground, some with chains about their necks as dozens of pillars throughout the chamber poured some sort of noxious fumes into the room. The orcs and black dragonkin that wandered the room monitoring the whelps seemed unaffected, but the magic that rippled off of them indicated that they had some sort of protection from the effects of the gas.

Those that were living halted, waiting for their leader to see what they ought to do, but Voldemort could easily do what the living could not, and trudged ahead, raising his weapons gleefully. Stepping into the room properly, the fumes seemed to attempt to swarm around him and constrict his movement, but being dead already, he suffered very little in the slowing of his joints. Nevertheless, he allowed necromantic energy to flow through him, hastening his reflexes and allowing him to dash ahead to the nearest cluster of foes, which was taken aback by his speed in their precious slowing gases.

Blood flowed as a result, and Voldemort gratefully smashed the pillars as he moved from group to group, ignoring the whelps that were too ill and immobilized to do more than litter the ground in his path. Even still, he refused to be a complete monster and simply stomp on their skulls as he passed, as there may be some use for them once freed from the gas.

The congregation of the living waited as he stormed around the room smashing every pillar, and once the gas vanished away, they pressed onward, taking the ramp and finding themselves at the end of a second hallway much like the first, with the exception of the massive bipedal black dragonkin at the far end, protecting a lowered portcullis that prevented passage into the room beyond.

"We need to clear much of the room so we have space to engage him," Nobu'tan called from the back, and Voldemort resisted rolling his eyes, instead taking what delight he could in being the old only able to freely move through the noxious fumes, charging each knot of enemies that he encountered, knocking down pillars as he went. The casters in their group shot spells as more, and soon enough there was a clear area for them to proceed into the room properly, just as Voldemort violently choked the life from the last orc enemy that dared to attempt to hinder them.

Still, they had only just managed to clear their space and move in before the massive dragonkin took notice, and advanced to meet them in battle, a large spear spinning from hand to hand as he charged.

Hurriedly, the Stormreavers formed a battle line, even as the hulking form smashed into their melee fighters. Voldemort circled around to the back of the beast, letting his death magic flow through his weapon as he swung thrice into the unprotected flanks of the dragon-like creature.

Bolts and spells pelted the beast from multiple sides, and it roared in anger and frustration, swinging the spear in a wide arc in front of him, hitting multiple of their allies at once. Voldemort knew that having the creature able to focus on more than one of them at a time was not wise, and so he channeled as much of his dark power as he could, stabbing the creature in the leg and drawing its attention as much as he could to turn and face him alone.

Soon enough the beast complied, turning from the rest of the assembled group and endearing to try and stamp Voldemort into the ground first. That was its biggest mistake, although it did manage to unleash a wave of fire that shoved many of those closest to him away. Several Fel missiles streaked through the air and slammed into the beast's head as Voldemort parried the whirling speartip with his sword.

Then he met the clawed foot head on, and went flying backwards, slamming into the gated exit of the room with a resounding crunch. Even though he felt no pain at the impact, Voldemort knew that severe damage had been done to his frame from the blow. The beast wasn't quite done with him yet however, and was rapidly closing the distance between them, even as Voldemort picked himself up from the ground, grasping the sword hilt with bones held together only by the dark magic that had animated his body, and little else.

The beast reared up before him, preparing to skewer him with the spear, when a massive projectile slammed into the small of its back, causing the dragonkin to fall backwards with a roar of pain. Voldemort spotted the ogre mage, Teg'Ramm, having just thrown one of the other enemies' weapons with all its enhanced and brutish might into the dragonkin, stunning it with the force of the strike from the flying weapon.

Voldemort took his opportunity, leeching the life force of the stunned dragonkin, even as he staggered closer, and raised his sword high. Necromancy surged around him, and he brought the blade down swiftly, severing straight through the toughened scale armor, shattering bone and slicing through flesh and sinew.

The beast gurgled out its final breaths as the blade of Voldemort's weapon dug deeper and deeper, black blood pooling across the stones as the beast released its own weapon to try and throw Voldemort from it weakly, but between the deathblow and his own leeching of the life force of the creature, it stood no further chance.

The beast died, hands flopping uselessly to the ground as all its strength left it, and Voldemort stood triumphant over its corpse, high off the power and essence he had consumed from the once proud and livid creature.

The others dashed past, many of the ogres start on prying the portcullis up to open their way to the next chamber, while goblins scoured the room, pocketing anything that wasn't tied down and looked even reasonably valuable.

Voldemort turned to find Potter watching, the red eyes gleaming with something that spoke of pride, and the former Dark Lord was instantly disgusted with the younger human. For him to even consider himself greater because of what he had done to Voldemort was a lie that he was telling himself, and in due time the Death Knight would remind him of that, brutally and without remorse.

The portcullis was throw upward and stuck there, revealing the path ahead, and the massive chamber with more dragonspawn, and even goblins wearing various muggle scientific equipment. There were also other orcs, and even some beings that appeared near human in appearance, but more graceful and with pointed ears.

The Stormreavers charged in, and Voldemort allowed himself to be swept up by the longing for the taste of life energy once more. There would be time enough to contemplate his revenge when the mountain was secured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Katrana Prestor was disturbed in mind over recent events. Although it was true that she detested the female visitor that had come to Stormwind Keep, practically swept her enchantments aside and persuaded both the prince and the Regent Lord to aid her people, and all but saw through Katrana's disguise, there were more pressing matters than the interference of a single mortal.

Within her personal chamber, Lady Prestor was able to shed the identity of the human female, even if she was still trapped within the form, and allow her mind to dwell on things of greater value. The Black Dragon, Onyxia, was terribly distressed about the state of affairs with her brother, Nefarian, and Blackrock Mountain.

If there was some new clan of orcs there, actually capable of clearing out the lower halls of the dwarven menace, then that in and of itself was a good thing, but she worried about the state of their plans if the Dark Horde grew in enough strength to throw off the current head of the Black Dragonflight.

Her brother was supposed to be created a secret chamber specifically for her use in the mountain, for her role as Broodmother, to lay and birth her eggs so that their Dragonflight would not go extinct, as much as Alexstrasza and the other Dragonflights would wish it to be so. She had an obligation that superseded even her work here weakening the Alliance and persuading them to openly war with the Horde of Kalimdor, and that was the survival of her brood. If Nefarian fell, it would only be a matter of time before she was discovered, and she would have to make certain that she had a place to retreat to and defend herself. But the paining thought was that Nefarian had already started moving many of her eggs and broodlings into this secret vault, and her desire to check up on them was terrible.

Focusing her thoughts upon her brother, Onyxia initiated a power that was nearly exclusive to the dragons alone, communication across massive distances. ' _Brother, what is going on at the mountain_ ,' she demanded, yearning to know what the cause of all the disturbances was. ' _News has already reached Stormwind of the defeat of Rangaros, and this new clan of orcs that have joined with the son of Blackhand_.'

There was no reply for the longest time, and Onyxia grew distraught at the idea that her brother had already fallen, but she knew that it wasn't so. Members of the immediate family of the Aspects could sense each other, and knew of the deaths of one of their brood mates like a pain through their own heart.

No, Nefarian yet lived, but was either occupied or ignoring her, which both were highly possible. This angered the Broodmother, and she would have set out for the mountain immediately, if not for the matters that she had here in Stormwind Keep where she would have gone suspiciously absent from if she departed immediately.

So long as her brother lived however, she knew that he would defend her clutch with his life, as the Lord of Blackrock mountain cared greatly for her happiness, even if he was selfish at times, and he knew the importance of making sure that the Black Dragonflight had its chance to return as a world power once again.

Still, even as she prepared the illusionary human form wherewith she wore to deceive the eyes of Stormwind for the next public appearance that she was expected to make, Onyxia couldn't shake the feeling that something was dangerously wrong at her Brother's stronghold, and she ought to go there as swiftly as she could.

Fingering the small stone with the Black Dragonflight's symbol upon it that she kept, a means of transport directly to the secret chambers that her brother was preparing for her, she considered the option of teleporting there in person just to find out what was going on. It was not as though she lacked means to get to and from the mountain swiftly and in secret, but still… any absence of a Lady of Stormwind was noted, especially one of such power and influence as Prestor, and she'd rather not throw all that she worked for away just on the chance that something was wrong.

She would wait and see if her brother responded to her, and if he didn't by the end of that day, she would teleport and extract the specifics from whatever lackey she found. The appearance of a fully grown Black Dragon Matriarch tended to get the job done when it came to demanding answers from anything smaller than her, which few things weren't when Onyxia was in her fully revealed form.

Smirking at a plan well tended and prepared, Onyxia fitted the mask of Lady Prestor back firmly over her mind, and departed her room, heading down to the main parts of the Keep, and whatever other demands on her time that awaited her there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm did not understand what the various groups of goblins, orcs, dragonkin, and the tall effeminate creatures that Nobu'tan identified as elves, were working on at the various labs around the large chamber, but as their forces butchered all those that resisted, and captured what others surrendered, primarily goblins that were pressed to give up at the end of knives and other weapons held by their kindred among the Stormreavers.

Nobu'tan waited in the center of the room for their forces to be finished ravaging the labs of all the valuables that were present. However, the warlock was not paying attention to the looting, but rather the ramp that led ahead to the next chamber. Teg'Ramm turned to look, and widened his eyes as he spotted the black drake slowly flying down toward them, more closely hovering than actually flying.

"We have incoming!" Teg'Ramm bellowed, snapping the Stormreavers out of their fervor of taking valuables and refocusing them on the approaching threat. The drake bellowed and start approaching faster, but after the massive red dragon, a much smaller drake was not much of threat in comparison.

Granted, many of their members were sporting rather nasty burns once the drake was slain, and their Shaman and Priests had their work cut out for them in purifying and mending the wounds caused by the dark fire. Nobu'tan urged them all to move onward, ascending the large ramp and finding the next large laboratory chamber, where once more the members of their clan charged the room, slaying and capturing what they could, both in item and in prisoner.

Teg'Ramm had an extra eye for the area up ahead, and he could see that there were two additional Black Drakes there, waiting and seeming napping as they guarded the highest tier of the laboratory area.

The sounds of their battle however seemed to be more than enough to rouse them, and the two drakes turned their searing eyes to glower down at the mass of Stormreavers, balefully flexing their wings and claws as they rose and took to the air.

The flames that they sent ahead of them down upon the assembled Stormreavers were more than enough to catch their attention, although it seemed several fell with grievous wounds from both the flames and the distraction as they fought the remaining workers. Even a few newly made prisoners took the opportunity to break free and fight once more, causing them to be partially surrounded as the drakes sped down the ramp toward them.

Teg'Ramm brought the end of his staff down hard on the shoulders of a charging elf mage, crumpling the smaller form as he raised a hand, conjuring a shield of Felfire to ward off another breath attack of one of the advancing drakes. He had the disadvantage of being one of the largest of their assault group, and therefore stood out more than the others, making him a prime target more often than not, but Teg'Ramm was more than willing to take the aggression of their foes if it meant that Lord Nobu'tan was safe.

Storming toward the advancing drakes, firing spells of pure destruction as he went, Teg'Ramm slammed bodily into the searing scales of one of the two, knocking it from the air and sending it to the ground, tail and claws flailing. Tough ogre hide that he had, the vicious claws still found much purchase on his hide, and the burning trails of lacerations all along his arms and torso were quite painful, but Teg'Ramm had experienced far worse.

Pinning the creature's head with the end of his staff, the ogre mage conjured a Fel fireball, and brought down along with his fist onto the creature's eye socket, relishing the screech of pain that the drake made as the powerful spell collided with its sensitive eye.

Its fellow wasn't about to allow Teg'Ramm to simply pummel the captured drake so easily, and started to swoop at him, but a volley of spells and arrows daunted its approached, even as others of the Order of the Black Harvest arrived, summoning various demons to held grapple the fallen drake and allow Teg'Ramm time to fall back and receive healing to his many wounds.

Some would scar, he already knew it before the healers even mentioned it, but it was irrelevant to him, as they would serve as badges of honor for his service to his master, and he would wear them all with pride. The demons tore apart the felled drake, even as the other attempted in vain to chase them off, before a well place bolt of chaos struck the flying one in the wing, tearing the appendage apart and sending it spiraling to the ground in a heap.

The fight was more or less over after that, the newly downed drake falling to the axes of Felguards and the stampeding hooves of the Fel Centaur as they rushed over it to ascend the ramp beyond.

The final tier was quickly looted, and their prisoners replaced with those who had been cowering on the top level, hoping that the drakes would have protected them. A final set of three massive bipedal dragonkin awaited at the far side, blocking entrance to a final chamber, which held, to Teg'Ramm's amusement, a tantalizingly large lever at the far side, which more than shouted the word trap across the room.

These particular dragonkin were far harder to slay then the previous, some method of magically altering their scale to reflect spells of flame, even Felfire, off them harmlessly. The steel weapons and pure chaotic energies of the Stormreavers was unaffected however, and the creatures fell in due time, dishing out very little pain and injury in exchange, which was quickly healed and mended without any trouble.

When all the looting was completed to everyone's mutual contentment, they gathered alongside Lord Nobu'tan and the others of the Council in the far chamber, where the human's disguised as orcs studied the tempting switch. There were two large gates on either side of the room, only one of which Teg'Ramm assumed led to their destination.

"It's undoubtedly a trap," Lucius stated flatly, with Lord Nobu'tan nodding in agreement.

"But to proceed onward, we must take the first step, and spring the trap," the younger warlock replied, grasping the heavy lever and heaving it to the side, and the gate to the right flew upward.


	60. C59: The Lord of Blackrock Mountain

**Boy oh boy am I thankful for those who reviewed this last week. My mind has started spinning into wild new ideas for the series, and while I'm still unsure where exactly I will end (currently leaning toward the end of Legion or an intro into Battle for Azeroth but no further, but we shall see as the expansion develops) there are some long reaching plotlines that I have brewing that will be most interesting for our cast of characters. So please, sit back, grab a drink or something to snack on, and enjoy the next installment! until next time... ~F**

 **Edit#2: My bad my peoples, when I posted I was not aware that this chapter had so many grammatical errors, and I have gone through and corrected most of them. I was in a rush, because I depart for the Salt Lake ComicCon tomorrow (If you happen to be there this weekend, look for Darth Sidious, I would LOVE to talk to a fan of any of my stories in person) much love to you all, and please enjoy the now corrected version of the chapter! ~F**

 **Chapter Fifty Nine**

 **The Lord of Blackrock Mountain**

Nobu'tan took one look at the massive, two-headed draconic hound, and knew that out of the many traps he had seen in his short life, this one probably was the most devious. Each head bellowed a raucous roar as the beast started toward them, and the orc-raised human warlock leapt backward, calling upon the power of frost to hinder the movement of the lumbering beast.

From the stone floor beneath the massive creatures, spikes of ice shot upward, glancing off the scales that protected the armored body, but slowing it nonetheless as the creature stamped roughly to smash the ice beneath its feet.

Teg'Ramm led the charge of their ogres and Fel Centaur against the beast, even while Aisha Feltalon took her Fel Veela and circled around to attack the hindquarters of the dog-like creature. Lucius took charge of the warlocks and mages, keeping up a steady barrage of magic, which seemed to do little against the chromatic scale armor that the creature bore.

Watching for a long moment as the battle rage, Nobu'tan sought to understand how or why such a beast was here, or what purpose it served aside from acting as a guard dog. He sensed that it had something to do with that heavy protection from magic, but only when he glanced back and spotted all the alchemical equipment scattered through the previous rooms did he understand. The whelplings that they freed... Lord Nefarius was experimenting with combining the abilities of all the dragonflights into one creature.

A true horror against the natural world, even for a warlock. They needed to stop this vile experimentation at all costs. Turning back to face the beast, Nobu'tan called upon the power of pure chaos, and slipped into his demonic form. But instead of charging in to fight with hoof and claw, he stayed back, channeling the raw demonic magic into spiraling blasts of shadow and flame, which bore well beyond the natural elements of the world.

Hailing these demonic bolts down upon the creature, to great effect, he rallied all those under his banner and fought like the Legion that had sent them, eventually crippling the disgusting experimental hound and rending the hide from its form with their weapons.

Once the beast lay dead at last, Nobu'tan was pleased to find that there was a second mechanism in the pen that would open the left side gate for them to proceed, as well as another large bounty of treasure, which he found disturbingly odd, as though someone was planting such items throughout the mountain for them to find.

Shaking aside the strange thought that only served to distract and make his head pound, Nobu'tan allowed his people to gather what they may, and prepare to move on to what felt like the final chamber of the Spire.

Pressing on after a short time of primarily the goblins organizing who was to take custody of what, they found themselves in a wide pillared hall, overlooking the barren landscape of the Burning Steppes. A throne-like seat at the far end was occupied by a human, who looked balefully down at them all as they approached. Lord Victor Nefarius was a strange enough appearing human to Nobu'tan, far too rigid and straight to be real, and his dark black hair offset by strange glowing eyes set him ill at ease regarding the humanity of the man before them. Something was drastically off.

"Ah yes… the Heroes have arrived at last…" the man said, leaning forward in his throne to look at them all over steepled fingers, "I suppose that that fool Blackhand thought you would be enough to dethrone me and return control of his precious Horde to him?"

"That would be enough to sum it up, I suppose," Nobu'tan replied, still on edge because of the unnatural air about this other human, and he kept his weapon solidly in hand.

Nefarius sighed dramatically, and sat back in his seat. "Do you expect me to cower before the mighty legion of Nobu'tan, Chieftain of the Stormreavers?" he asked, suprising them all with how much he knew of their identity, "You are nothing to me. Less than nothing. Had I desired your heads, they would have been presented to me on pikes. You have made the mistake that all mortals make. Time does strange things to those that use it as a form of currency."

Nobu'tan said nothing, but he thought that the man had to be quite mad to think he was anything more than a mortal like they were, unless his suspicions of something being more than a bit off were closer to the truth than he wanted to admit.

Nefarius continued in the silence, "In your rush to glory, you assumed that the pace of the game revolved around your actions. Can you even fathom how preposterous that sounds to a being like me? A being that if so inclined could cause your own insignificant thoughts to crush the peanut sized mass of grey matter floating within your skull."

The other man laughed, a low chuckle that sent chills up the warlocks back, "Well, I rarely was fond of you mortals and your little games… but you know what?" he asked, standing, "I say… let the games begin!"

In a flash of smoke and light, Nefarius vanished, and Nobu'tan turned as a pair of aside doors slammed open at the rear side of the chamber, spewing forth a horde of two legged dragonspawn, wielding spears and rushing to meet the Stormreavers in combat.

Even as they turned to face the coming threat, Nobu'tan felt something, a shimmer in the Arcane energy around them, or something else, it gave him a split second to dodge to the left as a bolt of magic slammed into the pillar he was next to.

Nefarius had teleported back and fired a spell at him, before vanishing again, his laughter echoing around the halls over even the clamor of battle. While Nobu'tan kept watch for the next appearance of their spell-casting foe, the others took care of the dragonspawn. Rapidly things were starting to make sense in Nobu'tan's mind, and he was drawing to a conclusion that he did not like in the least.

Only when the last of the bipedal dragon-like creatures was felled did every fall momentarily silent, until they all turned to the great ledge that overlook the lands around the mountain, where the beating of massive wings could be heard drawing nearer.

"Well done, my minions." Bellowed a voice as a shape descended from above the ledge. "The mortals' courage begins to wane! Now, let's see how they contend with the true Lord of Blackrock Spire!"

Nobu'tan's fears were confirmed, Lord Nefarius was a Black Dragon in disguise. As the massive beast landed with a thunderous crash on the ledge, Nobu'tan could already see the great maw opening, and dark flames building, "Take cover!" he yelled, dodging behind a pillar with Draco and Lucius in tow.

"BURN! You wretches! BURN!" Nefarius bellowed, purple flames shooting through the entire room, only blocked by the pillars they hid behind, or a few who used spells to protect themselves from the flames.

Teg'Ramm roared a challenging reply, even as demons were sent forth from all the warlocks, and their forces rallied against their new foe. Nobu'tan dodged around to the left side of the dragon, staying well away from both head and tail, unleashing a magical array of spells to pummel the obsidian colored scales of the dragon.

"Warlocks…" the dragon called, and Nobu'tan felt something seep into his mind trying to overpower his will and command him to do something against his allies, "you shouldn't be playing with magic you don't understand. See what happens?"

Nobu'tan resisted, throwing off the mental compulsion with a roar of anger. Around the room he saw many also had defended themselves from the control of the dragon, but not all. Those who fell sway to the demanding magic lifted their hands, and as one summoned Infernals down from the sky, which stuck the ground and rose to attack their own allies.

But whatever Nefarius was planning with that turn of event, Nobu'tan smirked, even as many of their people reacted instantly, bending the will of the Infernals and enslaving them to fight for them once again, the stone golems of Felfire pummeling the dragon's hide with their boulder appendages.

The battle waged on, the dragon continuing to try and manipulate their allies abilities against them, once having several of their goblin mages polymorph themselves into various animals, and once frighteningly by inverting the ability for their goblin priests to heal, causing them to harm those they sought to heal of a short time.

Nevertheless, the Stormreaver's endured the onslaught of the dragon's manipulative magic, continuing to fight even when it seem that the dragon had them beaten. A few times, Nobu'tan had to launch in demon form at the dragon to distract him from cleaving through their melee fighters with his razor sharp claws, only retreating when the healers had mended the severe wounds and burns that they endured from being in the dragon's face.

Soon enough the dragon started to stagger back from the blows it was enduring, and roared loudly, stunning them all for a second, "Impossible! Rise my minions! Serve your master once more!"

The charred bodies of the dragonspawn they had slain started to move, and Nobu'tan knew that they had to act fast or be overwhelmed on two fronts. Even as the skeletal forms started to rise, their flesh melting off of them from the level of magic used to animate them, Nobu'tan tore open portals to summon more demons to their cause, forming a protective phalanx of Felguards to cover the rear, even as the members of the Clan continued to fight with Nefarius directly.

Seeing that they had countered him yet again, the dragon reared up, roaring in frustration, "ENOUGH! Now you vermin shall feel the force of my birthright: The Fury of the Earth itself!" before slamming his front claws down on the stone, sending a shockwave throughout the mountain and knocking many of them from their feet.

Even in that moment that they all tried to rise, the dragon turned and brandished its tail, sweeping it in a long arc over them, spikes impaling one of the Fel Veela, as well as a goblin and a Fel Centaur in one blow, sending the creatures flying into the far wall with a sickening crunch.

"Worthless wretchs! Your friends will join you soon enough!" Nefarius taunted, turning back to the rest of them.

Nobu'tan saw red. He would not allow more of his followers to die in pursuit of his adgenda, not now, not ever. Fel energy sweeping through him, he rose and transformed, even as Nefarius rose up again to slam the ground. Nobu'tan rammed the dragon in the exposed chest, catching the beast at the point of greatest unbalance, and sending the pair of them hurtling backward, right over the ledge of the mountain fortress.

Air rushed past them, but the dragon was more than adept in the open air, and turned himself to make use of his massive wings. Nobu'tan knew that this form had them as well, and reached with his mind and his magic to command the shadowy appendages to perform their function, and they extended, slowing his fall instantly and giving him control to chase the dragon before it could make its escape.

Blasts and bolts from the ledge told him that his forces were still trying to hit the dragon as he fled, but Nobu'tan had the advantage of proximity, and bolted upward like a shot, straight into the right wing of the dragon, allowing his Fel claws to tear through the thin sinew that allowed the beast to stay aloft.

The dragon roared in agony, and perhaps fear, rolling to pull the damaged wing away, and swipe at Nobu'tan with claws and tail, but the smaller figure was too swift for the hulking dragon, which while graceful in the air was nothing compared to the warlock.

"This cannot be! I am the master here! You mortals are nothing to my kind! Do you hear me? Nothing!" the dragon shouted, even as Nobu'tan attacked the other wing, severing muscle to the bone and making the limb useless. The dragon plummeted to the ground, out of control and unable to right himself for a proper landing. The echoing crash as he hit the earth was a glorious sound, but Nobu'tan wouldn't leave anything to chance, aiming for the fallen dragon's head, he unleash a torrent of demonic and chaotic spells into the dragon, punching holes in the draconic skull until he was certain that the beast was dead.

Only then did he abandon the corpse and fly back to the mountain to rejoin his forces, knowing that they would need him to make it out of the mountain once more and rejoin the Horde properly, to deal with the aftermath of this event.

Landing back on the balcony and reverting to his natural, albeit illusioned, form, Nobu'tan was quickly rushed at by several of the healers, who all were very keen to inspect him and cure any injury he might have sustained in fighting Nefarius midair. They were disappointed, or rather relieved, to find that Nobu'tan was mostly unharmed, aside from some minor lacerations from the scales as he slammed against the dragon, and burns from residual flame that he almost didn't doge from time to time.

More important to the chieftain of the Stormreavers was the fate of those struck by the dragon during the course of the battle. The healers were saddened to report that of those smashed by the final tail sweep of the dragon, only their fellow priest was able to be saved, the smaller body be cushioned from the blow by the bodies of the others who struck it before him.

Falling silent for a long moment, Nobu'tan internally raged at his failure to keep his people safe during this endeavor. Turning away from the others so that they could not see his reaction to what he felt was a personal defeat. Nobu'tan walked toward the back of the chamber, where the small rooms that the dragonspawn had emerged from were located.

Or at least, he had thought they were small rooms, as when he looked up at them, he found that the chamber was actually a corridor leading further into the mountain, and he grimaced at the thought that there was even more yet to be explored and cleared out of this infernal mountain.

"My Lord, what have you found?" Lucius said, walking over and observing the corridor beyond as well, "the next chamber to progress? Excellent, I shall rally everyone once our injuries are fully healed and our magical levels are restored."

The man walked off before Nobu'tan could muster the courage to say that he didn't want them to proceed at this time. It was difficult to watch as his clan, so willing and eager to press onward and claim the entirety of the mountain, would press on into the unknown after such a chaotic battle. But they did, and even if it was against his personal desired to do so, Nobu'tan would continue to protect them with all he had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Onyxia widened her eyes as he felt her brother's death. Luckily, it had been hours since her last duty had been discharged, and the night had long fallen, so none would notice of Lady Katrana Prestor suddenly disappeared for several hours or more. She quickly pulled out the small token that would teleport her to her brother's fortress, specifically the chambers that had been prepared for her brood to flourish deep within the mountain.

Having been here more than once during its construction, she barely had to even acknowledge the drakes and dragonspawn that were caring for her eggs as they settled happily near the central chamber, and the volcanic steam vents that rose from the heart of the mountain. Quickly, she took to the chamber that would lead up to Nefarian's throne room, suspecting that something dire had happened, and she might have to make some quick deals to protect her own, or else fight to drive away the intruders. But if they had already defeated her brother, Onyxia was not sure if she could stand up to whatever force had come, be it Horde or Alliance in nature.

What she found was surprising to say the least, as Onyxia had not seen such a gathering of orcs, ogres and goblins since the second war between the Horde and the old Alliance of Lordaeron. Overlooking the large attack force from an upper ledge, she knew that it was a matter of time before they discovered her and the purpose of this inner chamber, so she willing stepped forward into view, and addressed them.

"What do you seek here, adventurers?"

Many of the heads turned, and Onyxia could tell that most were willing to lift weapons and attack on sight, but the leader, a shorter figure with the appearance of an orc held up a hand, seeming to be tired of combat and seemingly willing to talk.

"That would depend, my false human, on what you are willing to offer us…" the magically altered voice stated gravely.

Onyxia could taste the Fel magic upon the majority of the group, and knew that their warlocks alone could summon demons enough to wipe out her brood if they so desired, and because of that fact alone, she was willing to offer a great deal, but that was not part of the concept of negotiation. She would not reveal her desperation unless it was pressed to the surface, which she suspected that it may come to that in the end, and she would lose quite a bit in freedom to secure the safety of her brood.

"Perhaps we ought to be honest with each other, _orc_ ," she taunted, throwing the mocking at the deception back at the figure, "and realize that you all are indeed quite powerful, to overcome Lord Nefarian, but can you stand to fight me and mine right afterward? I suspect neither of us wants to endure more loss of life in this conflict, over what I actually do not know…"

The impersonated orc seemed to pause, while those around him grew tense, probably hoping for the order to attack, but instead the leader's form shimmered, and a young human, barely out of his twentieth year appeared, looking up at her, "You would be correct that I tire of this struggle over the mountain. I merely want the fortress back in the hands of those who rightfully conquered it. The Horde of old, which I will aid to become a great world power once more. But what do you seek out of such a suspension of aggression, and what can you offer that would be of use to us?"

The boy surprised Onyxia. It was rare to find such an idealist these days, outside of the royal court where she had much contact with the boy-prince Anduin. In a strange turn of events, she found that brute honesty might earn her more allies than enemies in this instance. "I seek the protection of my clutch, and the continued existence of the Black Dragonflight through it. And I am more than willing to offer you control of the mountain, and perhaps the opportunity for a future alliance between us."

Those nearest to the boy leaned down and spoke in whispers, probably in the attempt to conceal their thoughts from Onyxia, but the Broodmother could hear them more than easily enough. "You cannot trust this one, my Lord." One said, while the other, closer in height to the leader nodded in agreement, "you can tell that she reeks of desperation, and will say anything to cause us to lower our guard, perhaps to spring upon us at the last moment."

"I have no quarrel with you mortals…" Onyxia replied loudly, broadcasting that their hushed tones did nothing to stop her hearing them, "I have far different objectives than my brother, and while his death saddens me, I have duty and responsibilities that supersede even avenging him, so I will willingly forgive the affront to our flight for your word that no more aggression to us will come about, and that these chambers, already prepared by Nefarian for my use to nurse our Dragonflight back to a decent population will remain untouched by your blades or Fel magic."

The dragon could see without needing to use any sort of skill or magic that the pair of advisors were still desperately trying to convince their leader against any sort of peaceful action, from their body language and even the pheromones that their skins released. It was very strange the things that mortals and their bodies did that even they themselves were unaware of.

But she could see that something was gnawing at the young leader, probably the concept of losing his people, if the smell of death in the air was anything to tell of it. "Explain what you mean by future alliance with us," the young human pressed, against the advice of those closest to him.

Straightening her illusioned form to its full height, which was admittedly not nearly as impressive as if she had room to revert to her true form, but Onyxia was proud of what her Brood would be capable of when they were mature at last, "you will never have to worry regarding the skys around this mountain, as my whelplings and drakes will see to its security, as this fortress will become our roost, I would guarantee that you will always be aware of enemies march of your gates, and I can personally provide you with details of the human kingdom to the south, as I am a rather influential member of the high court of the land."

That last point was clearly something that the advisors were not expecting to hear, and they fell silent, trying to determine what she was playing at no doubt, but Onyxia had eyes only for the youthful leader. He was so close to accepting, there needed to just be one little thing more to tip the balance. Utilizing her draconic magic, Onyxia subtly slipped into the boy's mind, not to violently dominate, but just to see what drove the child, where his loyalties truly lay.

What she found surprised her. An image of an orc, grizzled and old came to mind, wielding massive Fel power and spurring an ancient horde onward toward the lands of the north: Gul'dan the warlock.

"You poor child…" she said without thinking, before realizing that she had tipped her hand.

"What?" the leader, Nobu'tan, responded, steeling his resolve, and Onyxia had to act swiftly to preserve what she had already created within him.

"You truly loved the orc warlock, didn't you…" she continued, laying the final piece of bait before the human.

The greed in the emerald eyes was palpable, even as they flashed the crimson of Fel taint, "What do you know of Gul'dan?" he demanded. The truth was that Onyxia knew very little, as the Black Dragonflight only participated toward the end of the war, long after the old orc had perished, but she had some ideas at least.

"I know some, but it will be yours to learn if we have a deal…" she said, giving her terms, and knowing the answer that would follow.

"My Lord, no…" the older of the two advisors countered, stepping forward, "you cannot trust what this one will say or do, it's too risky."

"What's too risky is going to war against every enemy we face, just to lose those closest to us!" the leader snapped back, surprising everyone in his company, but not the Broodmother. It was clear that the pang of loss weighed heavily on this one, clearly still so new to leadership. It was another avenue that she could lend her aid with, and further cement the safety of her brood.

Ironically, it was not betrayal that she was considering, as she may have in previous days of if the boy was more arrogant than he was, but Onyxia had seen into his heart, and it was pure, even among the demonic corruption. He was not a perfect servant of the heartless legion, but a noble soul in a terrible situation. If she honestly aided him, she would become part of his clan, his family, and he would defend her and hers to the very death. It was a fierce sort of love, but one that the Broodmother could intimately understand and approve of. Anything that was of value had to be jealously guarded from harm.

"Do we have a deal, young warlock of the Stormreaver Clan?" she asked again calmly, awaiting his answer, and knowing that many would balk at his inevitable decision.

"We do, but I want to know immediately what happened to my old master." Nobu'tan said, stepping closer to Onyxia. The others were shocked, probably thinking that the Broodmother had their leader under a spell or some sort of trance, which almost made Onmyxia lose her composure and chuckle. To think that one so strong willed and noble could be easily dominated by another was laughable. She would have expected such foolishness from her brother, and he probably did try to his folly, but she could tell that this was an alliance that would benefit her greatly.

"The mountain is your then, Nobu'tan, Lord of Blackrock Mountain, your forces need not fear anything that lays within, I will tell my brood that you are our allies and to treat you as members of the black dragonflight from here on. But as to your questions, young one, walk with me…"

Onyxia smirked as she turned to walk further into her nesting chamber, and the boy-leader followed instantly. The Brood Mother knew that the two advisors for the leader were glaring fiery death into her back, and would have followed if not for their leader waving them off, which was good for her. Better for them to distrust her and allow her to prove herself than for it to be too easy for her to manipulate them all into her service.

"So tell me, what happened to Gul'dan…" the boy started, even as they passed into the inner chamber and viewed the large descended heating area, filled with her eggs and monitored constantly by drakes and dragonspawn.

Instinctively sensing their mother's presence, the members of the Black Dragonflight turned to look up at her, tasting the air of the companion she had brought with them, knowing that it would be an ally if she Broodmother accepted him, "It is a long, and somewhat fragmented tale," she began, looking over the progress of her children, "I will admit that even I know little more than you've likely discovered by now, but I know that the Warlock met his end on the Broken Isles, out in the sea, where his own Horde turned on him when he sought the power of the Dark Titan."

Whether the boy understood everything she told him, she couldn't tell, in fact she suspected that he wasn't aware of what schemes that his old master had been up to. "Which clans?" he asked, surprising the Black Dragon.

"Pardon me?" she asked, not understanding what the boy was asking.

"Which clan of the Horde led the attack?" the boy repeated, "what were their colors, the shape of their banner, their symbol. I must know who to punish."

Onyxia thought hard, "Black was their color, and a grinning smile with broken teeth was their symbol," she stated, recalling the banners on the ships sailed toward her father's old lair on the broken isles.

The darkening look on the young face was almost delightful to see. The young man had a darkness within him, even more than the Fel that he wielded.

"The Black-Tooth Grin Clan…" he said, seething, "Rend, betrayed me, used me, and lied to me…" Onyxia stepped back slightly as Fel sparks started to erupt along the boy's arms. "I will destroy him, and shatter the remnant of his clan. The Horde will be mine!" he shouted, startling several whelplings that were nearby.

The raw anger was something of a surprise to even the Broodmother, and all thoughts of manipulation fled in an instant. This child, this human would become extremely violent if even a hint of deception was detected.

The boy turned immediately, uncaring of what Onyxia said or did from that point, heading for the exit of the mountain, and presumable he would only return when this Rend's head was on a pike.

Intrigued she followed for a short distance. Nobu'tan stormed past all of his people to Nefarian's ledge, overlooking the blackened wasteland of the volcano's plains. Even the dragon's eyes widened as the boy simply stepped off the ledge, his form shifting to that of a shadowed demon and took off toward the orc encampment at the base of the mountain.

Both advisors whirled on the dragoness, concern and partially rage in their eyes, "What did you say?" the elder one demanded, and Onyxia was surprised that the human in orc shape had the gall to make demands of her, but at the same time it amused her.

"I told him the truth, and now he will take justice into his own hands, as is his right." She said simply, "and now I will take my leave, but for your leader, I will give you this to keep in contact with me," she added, passing a communication stone, enchanted with her own magic to the elder advisor.

The man was not pleased by her leaving so soon, but he also clearly was aware that he held no power over her, and let her go. Activating her stone once more, Katrana Prestor returned safely to Stormwind, worried about the future for her brood, but at least safely assured that they would not be wiped out, and for the time being that was enough. As the true persona of Onyxia departed behind her mask, her final thought of the blackened mountain was that she would be seeing much more of the warlock Nobu'tan, she would guarantee it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobu'tan was enraged, not thinking straight, but he didn't care. Warchief Rend Blackhand had something to do with Gul'dan's death, and vengeance demanded answers, and the orc's head for raising his hand against Nobu'tan's master.

He could sense that the leaders of the Horde had not left the camp, nor had they done anything they decided upon previously. Not that it mattered in light of his new alliance with the Black Dragons. Storming into the tent, Rend and the other leaders were right where he had left them, sitting around a fireplace enjoying the same food, hashing out the same stories in their drunken matter.

"Out! Everyone out!" Nobu'tan demanded, his voice rising with the levels of Fel magic wafting off of him. The orc chieftains and commanders looked fearfully back at him, then to Rend for instruction like the fools that they were. Nobu'tan was disgusted at the lack of effective leadership that the Horde had fallen to. No wonder they were no longer a world power, and this Thrall had taken command of the rest of the clans, as well as their very name.

Felfire surged outward onto the table, setting it ablaze instantly, "NOW!" Nobu'tan roared, and the orcs leapt to their feet, dashing past the enraged warlock and fleeing out into the camp. Rend was on his feet in an instant, axe in hand, as though he already suspected what the warlock desired.

Even as the weapon swung at him, Nobu'tan's claw-like hands shot out, knocking the weapon aside and gripping the drunken orc by the throat, lifting him from the ground with the strength of the Fel.

"Now," Nobu'tan demanded, containing his rage for the time being until he had his answers, "You will tell me the truth you drunk pig, what did you and your brother do to Gul'dan, my master?"

The drunken orc, already fearing for his life, became a rush of drunken words, wherein Nobu'tan understood very little aside from the name of Doomhammer. From that alone he could gather a sense of what went on. Gul'dan went for the fabled Tomb of Sargaras, why he went earlier than his original plan Nobu'tan did not know, but Doomhammer was enraged from the departure as the Horde was marching on their final opponents, and in response he sent the Blackhand brothers as executioners.

There was only one last question he had for the Warchief, which would determine if he died right then and there or later, "Who killed Gul'dan, you? Maim? One of your warriors?"

"None of us…" croaked the orc, "he… fled into the Tomb, and demons came out after… we wouldn't chase him after that."

Nobu'tan relaxed enough to let the orc fall to the ground in a heap. Nobu'tan had suspicions since the Naaru told him so long ago that the Legion betrayed his master. He had hoped that he was being lied to by the creature of Light, but he should have figured that it had nothing to gain from that.

But that still did not absolve the drunken mess in front of him from responsibility from driving his master into that tomb unprepared for what lay within. "I declare mak'gora, Warchief." He said solemnly, making sure that the orc was paying attention to understand the importance of what he was listening to.

"Tomorrow, at midday, we will fight for rulership of the Horde, and for my personal satisfaction against your hand in killing the one who cared for me more than any other." Nobu'tan declared, turning to leave, even as the Fel magic fled from him.

Even as he started to leave, so that the warchief could sober up for their duel to the death. Orcs were gathered all around, some bearing weapons, but none dared to approach or hindered him from leaving.

Only one would even make eye contact with him, an orc bearing the white symbol of the Dragonmaw Clan, and Nobu'tan was intrigued to note that the orc was smiling approvingly at the aura of fear that Nobu'tan was portraying. If he was to remember correctly, this same orc was in the inner circle of Rend's commanders, and therefore he suspected that this orc was either the current chieftain or some other leader in the Clan.

A potential candidate for Rend's replacement as Warchief of the Horde, perhaps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius waited anxiously for Nobu'tan to return. It had taken quite a bit of time for them to hike back down from the mountain fortress. From whatever that dragon in human form had told their leader, he had taken off like a madman in a rage, and Lucius knew he had to stop Nobu'tan before the boy did something horribly rash and potentially devastating.

But by the time they reached the camp however, Nobu'tan was already storming back from a mob of other orcs surrounding the Warchief's tent. "What did you do?" Lucius demanded, stopping right before the stern form of Nobu'tan.

"I declared mak'gora." The boy responded, which meant nothing to Lucius.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Mak'gora, a vengeance duel to the death." The younger man responded.

Lucius was flabbergasted. The boy was engaging in a death duel. "And you're going to use what, the Fel to destroy him I presume?" he asked.

"No," Nobu'tan responded, "That's against the tradition. Brawn and steel only, no magic of any kind, aside from a shamanistic blessing upon the weapon of choice."

Lucius couldn't believe his ears. It was madness, "My Lord, with all due respect but this is insane, you have no chance against that brute without your magic, what on earth are you thinking!"

"I must avenge my master, and reassert our domination over the Horde, and the only way to win the loyalty of the orcs is through this method." Nobu'tan explained, "and I am not going at this half cocked, Lucius." Suddenly the young man grew deathly cold and direct, "I've know Rend and his dead brother for a long time, and I know his vices, his weaknesses, and I will defeat him at his own game, long before he has the chance to bash in my skull as I know he wants to, once he's out of his drunken stupor."

"Merlin…" Lucius moaned, trying to understand the madness that this boy, this young man was undertaking. "If you die then all our plans, all our strategies are gone, why would you risk something like this so early in the game? Call forth a champion, do something other than fight yourself."

"It has to be me, I will avenge Gul'dan of his murderers." Nobu'tan responded, his voice steeled to the task.

Lucius knew when he was beat, and the boy was stubbornly set on this course of self destruction. Walking away, he went off to think of what madness he had signed up his family, sold his entire world for. But, there was a way for this to work. Nobu'tan was using himself as potential bait, whether he thought of it or not. Quickly returning, in time to see the warlock removing the out trapping of his raiment and allowing one of the goblin shaman to adorn him with markings of various elemental symbols, as well as a sword from the dwarf kingdom that they had recently plundered.

"I will be waiting to strike down Rend if it looks as though you will fail." He declared, causing Nobu'tan to turn to him.

"We cannot afford you to die, even if it means losing the loyalty of the Horde," Lucius said, overriding the potential storm of complaints against his plan. "You are too important. If that event happens, we will set another to be the Warchief, back away for a time, and later return to take the reins once more, but so help me this will happen, because I did not allow you to destroy our world just to throw everything away in you mad quest to punish everyone that made you unhappy!"

Lucius was raging in a way he had never before felt. The look on Nobu'tan's face clearly suggested that he hadn't even considered that Lucius could be this distraught. "I won't fail, but if it makes you feel better, then I will allow it."

Lucius nodded, satisfied as far as the situation allowed. The orcs were already gathering around a massive pit, seemingly hastily dug and lined with wooden spikes. Lucius was not able to get into the immediate inner circle, but there was an opening large enough for him to have a clear view of the combatants once they entered.

Nobu'tan was already present, his illusioned form stripped to bare clothing, waiting for Warchief Rend to make his appearance. From the murmuring of the orc crowd, they had already been waiting for a short time, and Nobu'tan was riling them up, pointing out how their Warchief was late to his own honor duel, swinging the plundered sword about in a show of strength.

Lucius knew that Nobu'tan was a brilliant actor when it was needed, but he was still concerned when Rend finally appeared, a massive axe in both hands and his body rippling with muscle. The Warchief was no slough when it came to combat, and it was likely that Lucius' wand would be needed to cut down the beast before he dealt a severe blow to their esteemed leader.

Rend leapt down with a roar into the pit, and without words the two started to square off and circle each other, Rend swinging the axe lazily even as Nobu'tan held the sword closer to his frame.

Lucius was on edge when the first clash came, Rend roaring and charging at Nobu'tan, who deftly dodged the axe swing and cut a thin line across the warchief's thigh, drawing first blood and dealing a hefty blow to the reputation of the leader of these orcs.


	61. C60: Command of the Horde

**Many thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter! many great questions and speculations this time, I thoroughly enjoyed reading your comments and questions. please enjoy the next chapter as much as the last was appreciated! ~F**

 **Chapter Sixty**

 **Command of the Horde**

Nobu'tan knew that he had the advantage now, with Rend bleeding from his leg, albeit lightly, the orcs around chanting about the Mok'gora were sure to soon see the weakness of their chosen leader. Even as Rend swung around to face him once more, Nobu'tan could tell that the Warchief was still under the effects of the massive amount of drink he had consumed, and therefore the injury was little more than superficial to his senses.

"What is this…" he demanded therefore, "I declare Mok'gora, and your warchief shows up still drunk off his rotten hind end. I demand satisfaction and how can Rend, son of Blackhand, give me a fight worthy of the title Warchief if he is in such a state?"

The taunts had their effect, and Rend swayed heavily as he snarled in response, "You have no place to speak of such things, welp." He declared, "I know you now, Nobu'tan, apprentice of Gul'dan the betrayer! You may have the appearance of an orc, but I can see through your demonic magic that you are hiding your runty human form beneath it!"

Knowing that Lucius would hate him for this, Nobu'tan simply laughed, "It took you long enough you drunk bastard!" he chided, dispelling his illusion and revealing his true form, still fit and ready for battle in the style of the Mok'gora, "but what of it, at least I still have the honor to show the duel, which you and your pathetic brother lacked. Tell me, was it Doomhammer's will that you fight Gul'dan with honor, or to try and assassinate him like the dogs you are, sent away from the front lines because you and your warriors wouldn't be an asset to him in the final battle, which he still lost!"

Roaring like a mad beast, Rend charged, emboldened by seeing the significantly smaller and more frail appearing human before him, rather than the orc form that Nobu'tan had been projecting. Sidestepping easily out of the drunken swing, it was almost too pathetic for Nobu'tan to draw back his blade, the metal biting deeply into the chest of the stampeding orc, spilling more of his blood.

"The Horde deserved a strong leader!" Nobu'tan bellowed to the orc onlookers, who had all gone silent at the exchange, revelation and shaming of their warchief, "I can guide the Horde back to the path of glory, with a strong warchief that will stand side by side with his brothers in arms, not wallow away in his tent drinking and boasting of events long past!"

Nobu'tan knew his words struck the hearts of all the orcs listening. When was the last time they launched a raid on their neighbors? "You cannot lead the Horde, you are nothing but a pathetic human runt, not fit for anything but to be strung up and slain, along with your clan!" Rend shot back.

"Perhaps not in the open, but I will find a candidate that is the epitome of the Horde and it's ideals, which you are most certainly not Rend, son of Blackhand the Destroyer. You are a far lesser son than your sire!"

That had the desired effect, the orc charged, axe singing as it swung wildly, and Nobu'tan dodged again and again, before striking at last, plunging his sword deep into the chest of the enraged orc. The axe skittered into the dirt, even as Rend grabbed Nobu'tan's throat, trying to break it in his ever weakening grip.

"Die now, and know that the Horde will not miss your leadership." Nobu'tan whispered, before breaking out of the orcs fingers, wrenching his sword down and out, before spinning and removing Rend's head from his shoulders in one deft stroke.

The head of Rend Blackhand toppled to the ground amid the silence of his people. Seizing the bristly hairs and lifting the head into the air, Nobu'tan roared as well as human vocal chords could, swinging his bloody sword around his head, splattering Rend's blood on those closest to the edge of the pit, "I am victorious! Rule of the Horde is mine to dictate!"

Teg'Ramm appeared through the throng, offering a hand to lift Nobu'tan from the pit, and setting him in the midst of his new followers, who despite their fear were clearly looking at the human in a new light. They were impressed, and knew that he had won the Mok'gora without cheating or magic, but the sheer power of his mind and the weakness of his opponent.

"Rally the leaders of the clans to me, so they may profess their loyalty to the Horde, our allies as well," Nobu'tan commanded, before pointing at the mountain with his bloody sword, "We move from this pitiful camp into our fortress at last this night, and we will plan our return to power on this world!"

The orcs roared in surprise and support. Clearly Rend had had no ambition for his rule, and the warriors of the Horde had grown agitated at the lack of something to do. Nobu'tan was already thinking far ahead, at a vast fortress nation throughout these black mountains, and rising up his power with steel and magic to sweep over the Nations of this world once more, in revenge for all that had happened to his mentor. The Legion would pay as well, in the end, when they met the warriors of the Horde in battle, and were overcome.

Orcs came, the personal guard of Rend, to lift Nobu'tan onto their shoulders as a victorious warlord, carrying him to the tent of their former Warchief. There he sat, Rend's head displayed proudly upon the small table before Nobu'tan new throne, as the officers and leaders of the Horde came on bended knee to profess their loyalty to the new chain of command.

There were many that hailed from the Blackrock Clan itself, so many in fact that Nobu'tan was surprised that they eclipsed even the smattering of Black Tooth Grin members. When questioned about this, they said that the Clan had been all but destroyed in defending the Dark Portal during the final battle of the second war, and that Rend and Maim had been among the only survivors to escape north.

Nobu'tan highly doubted that the pair of brothers had merely survived. Fled was more likely accurate. The next largest assortment were Dragonmaw, and the orc that Nobu'tan had watched before stood before him as their chieftain, Nek'rosh Skullcrusher, son of Nekros, the right hand of Zuluhed the Whacked, who had taken part of their clan into the portal before it was sealed, dividing their clan and leaving it more or less leaderless. Then the once mighty beast-tamer clan had suffered defeat when humans, elves and dwarves had united to free their prisoner, the red dragon queen Alexstrasza, who destroyed their fortress of Grim Batol to the north and forced the remainder of the Dragonmaw to flee either east or south, further fragmenting their forces.

Nobu'tan offered Nek'rosh a place at his table, giving him honor in the eyes of the other members of the Horde, whom he had done no such thing with thus far. Next to approach were trolls, Amani members of a pair of much smaller tribes than the mighty Zul'jin had hailed from, but Nobu'tan welcomed them all the same.

Finally, lumbering outside were the ogre clan leaders, all bulk and no brains sadly, almost ready to fight each other rather than serve one common purpose. Nobu'tan was sure that Teg'Ramm would enjoy bending these clans to his will.

Most of the leaders he sent away, promising that there would be time enough for them to heed his counsel and seek his advice on their predicaments, but he retained the company of Chieftain Nek'rosh, one of the remaining Blackrock Warlocks named Xi'lun, Gath'llzogg who had remained from Redridge and was effectively the leader of the Blackrock orcs now that Rend was dead, and two of the forest trolls, their leader Voone, as well as a Shadow Hunter named Vosh'gajin.

Standing form his chair in the overly scented tent, Nobu'tan resumed his orcish disguise, beckoning for them all to follow him, and leading them from the worthless place to make any sort of decision. During this long process, the Stormreavers had been hard at work shifting all of their resources into the upper portions of the mountain, taking great care to go unnoticed from the rest of the Horde, whom Nobu'tan wished to filled the depths of the mountain, keeping them protected by the stone wall of the fortress rather than out in the open for anything to see or attack.

It was slow going, but eventually they found themselves in the massive chamber where Nefarian, the Black Dragon, had once watched over all of the Burning Steppes, and even the distant path toward the south, and the human kingdom of Stormwind.

"Long have I been away," Nobu'tan said slowly, gazing out across the landscape, "and in all that time I know that Rend had driven the Horde into the ground, doing nothing but lazing about and allowing others to make decisions for him." There was no disagreement from the others, and Nobu'tan turned to face them.

"This will not be the same with me, we are going to make massive changes, starting from this place and reaching outward to all corners of the regions we control." He said directly, before looking to Nek'rosh, "one thing that Rend was right about is that I cannot lead the Horde in public, as a human I would be too noticeable, and the warriors would question my bravery if I stayed disguised for long periods of time. You Nek'Rosh, Chieftain of the Dragonmaw, will take up the helm of Warchief for me, while I direct you and the Horde to greatness…"

The orc looked mildly surprised, but nodded acceptingly, understanding that he was not being given power, merely the illusion of power, and the rewards that stemmed from it. "We are extremely weak, as we are," Nobu'tan continued, glancing at each of them, "our individual tribes and clans have suffered greatly from a lack of reinforcements, or supplies, and while there is much that we could stretch out and raid for our survival, you've not done so? Through the manipulations of the man that once ruled here, you were slowly weakened to the state of being his bodyguards, but no more. We are the Horde, and we will rise again to power and greatness."

"Xi'lun," Nobu'tan called forward, and the other warlock stepped closer, eager to hear what the new warlord of the Horde wished of him, "Gather the most intelligent of the ogres that serve us to the altar of storms you have constructed, I will show you the secret means that Gul'dan used to create the Ogre Magi, and we will start to fortify our armies with their power."

"Yes, Warchief," the warlock stated, turned to leave immediately.

"Voone, Vosh'gajin," Nobu'tan called next, turning to the trolls, "I hear that there are other tribes of your people farther to the north, who are either unaffiliated with us or the other factions, or are otherwise sympathetic to the false Horde across the sea, go and take captives of your wayward cousins, and bring them back here for reconditioning…" The pair of gangly creatures smirked toothily before departing without a word.

"Nek'rosh, Gath'llzogg," Nobu'tan finally addressed, turning to the last two orcs in the room, "As the three most powerful clans here, we need to set a firm example of unity and power, raids won't be enough, but the kingdom to the south is powerful, we need to attack something to the north, what lays there?" he asked, hoping for information of a suitable location to invade.

"Directly north of us is more of the foul black desolation that we've claimed as our own," Nek'rosh stated, "after that, due east is a rough badland filled with warriors of the false Horde, as well as more ogres and the beginning of the dwarven settlements."

Nobu'tan remembered it well, it was the site of his first mission, and he would welcome the change to bring battle back to the dwarves there. "After that is a massive lake, where the dwarves hold great power, and finally the lands where Grim Batol stands, overlooking the massive marshlands that lead out to the sea."

Nobu'tan nodded, pulling in the information as it was provided, already planning their war strategy, "We need access to the sea, so that we can move freely from not only this continent, but the supposed other where the false Horde herald from. I wish to see what they've built if possible, we will march to take the lands directly north of the mountain, and create a buffer between our fortress and these Badlands, before making any attempts to push further out. Ready our warriors."

The pair of orcs smirked at the thought of finally having a unified enemy to fight, as they ought to have had from the beginning. Only once they left did Nobu'tan address the others that had been in the room, eavesdropping over the entire conversation. "You can come out Lucius, and you as well Draco…"

The pair of humans appeared, still disguised in their orc forms, "You took a massive risk, Nobu'tan," Lucius started with, and the orc-raised human nodded, agreeing.

"Yes, but how it paid off was perfect." He offered as explanation, the looks he received however had him backtracking, "but you are right, I acted without thinking, and it could have been a disaster if I hadn't known what Rend would do?"

"And you understand why we feel that we need to watch you closely after this, to make sure you don't discover another personal enemy and rush off to kill them, abandoning the plan, our goals, and us." Draco added, which made sense to him.

"I understand your worry, but you shouldn't neglect yourselves in keeping me in check, Lady Narcissa is in Stormwind all alone right now," turning to Lucius, he gave the man a pointed look, "You should go and visit her, I believe, now that the mountain is ours. I promise that no overwhelming decisions will be made without both of your opinions being considered."

Pulled from his robes was the small white stone that Nobu'tan remembered fondly, a Hearthstone. Channeling his energy alongside the memory of the mountain, he felt the stone bind its internal magic to transport a user back to the mountain.

Pressing the stone into Lucius' hand, he smile, "this will bring you back when you need to return, you can easily find another in Stormwind so you can transport yourself back and forth. Please…" he knew it was a strange change of the entire flow of their conversation, but he suddenly had a thought that Narcissa would need her husband soon, as powerful a woman as she was, Stormwind was potentially a dangerous place with all that she knew, not to mention the fact that Nobu'tan deeply suspected that the black dragoness was somewhere in power in Stormwind, and Lucius would need to inform his wife on who was their secret ally.

Lucius looked at the sincerity in his eyes, and nodded, "I understand, but I need a promise that you will not leave these lands for any reason while I am gone."

Nobu'tan actually laughed, "You think I'll have time to leave with all that needs to be repurposed and planned and resources gathered? If that's all you need to feel secure, take Draco with you because I can guarantee that I will not leave the Burning Steppes, let alone this mountain, if it will make you feel at ease for a trip to Stormwind.

"The lands immediately around the mountain are sufficient, as I doubt that anything here is strong enough to threaten you now, short of an attacking army." Lucius replied, smiling warmly. Nobu'tan smirked in response.

"Tell mother that I miss her terribly, but my place is here for the time being," Draco said, turning to look at his father, "We'll provide you a horse from the Horde's stolen stockpiles. That will get you there faster."

"Don't forget to remove your illusion, or you'll be attacked on sight." Nobu'tan added, and the three of them shared a laugh at the obvious.

"I suppose I'm on my way, then," Lucius said, turning to leave, and Nobu'tan was more than sure that there was a new spring in his step as he departed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, waiting in her throne room as the delegation of the Earthen Ring, as well as the rest of the Horde entered. Her crimson eyes watched carefully as the orcs, trolls and tauren mounted the steps around her dais, all keeping an extra close eye on her Demonic servant, the Dreadlord Varimathras. The Nathrezim as always was close by her side, where she could watch his movements and make sure that he was still doing her bidding.

The leader of the expedition, a young orc that bore the armor of the Kor'kron, Thralls personal guard, stepped forward and bowed appropriately in respect of the ruler of the Undercity. "Lady Windrunner, we have come for whatever aid you are willing to give to our cause in investigating these rumors of the return of the Stormreaver Clan to the south, and the defeat of the Firelord Rangaros."

While she was aware of what they referred to, she was not so sure why she ought to be concerned. If another faction of Dark Horde orcs had appeared, it simply was all the more of a buffer between her and the Alliance in Stormwind and Ironforge, but she had pledged her might to the Horde, and in this case she was curious as to why they were so concerned about this matter.

"You shall have whatsoever thing you need; also I have information that may interest you…" She replied, meaning it truthfully. Her curiosity had led to several scouting parties to the south, through the Arathi Highlands and well into the Wetlands, which while officially Alliance controlled territory were easily traversed unobserved.

"…over the last few weeks, all signs of the Dark Horde have withdrawn from their northern holds, as though something or someone had beckoned them all back to their place of power." She continued after a short pause. The aforementioned group was surprised, as this was a move that none expected of the Dark Horde. For the longest time their strategy was to attack and hold whatever they could seize with a ferocity that only their total extinction could shake, but now they were readily abandoning lands that they had even only recently gotten control of. Something major had changed.

"A new leader, my Lady," Varimathras put forth, clawed hands tapping his chin.

"I would suspect so. It wouldn't be hard to imagine Rend Blackhand being slain by another inspirational leader. But who, and why?" Sylvanas replied.

"That is what we've been sent to find out, Dark Lady," the orc leader stated, chest puffing with pride at his assignment. The young and rather easily influenced orc clearly was charismatic to those under his command and had gained quite a bit of favor with the Warchief to be selected for such a mission, and the Banshee Queen would be rather looked down upon if she didn't expedite his journey.

"Take several Forsaken mages and warlocks with you, so that we can make sure that the energies around that mountain aren't something direr than we already suspect." She said at last, motioning for them to take their leave and get underway as swiftly as possible.

"My Queen, if too many move across the lands of the Alliance, that might constitute an act of war," Varimathras advised, but she ignored him.

"The Alliance is likely as interested in this development as we are, so I doubt that too much will happen as you move down through their lands." The Queen of the Forsaken countered, "Now go, I have other matters to deal with," she added, dismissing the Horde expedition forthright. She would allow them to do her work for her, and discover what was going on in the south, while she refocused her efforts on the nearest threats, the Scourge and Gilneas. That wall had stood for far too long, and she was still striving to make a push into Silverpine proper to take all of the north for herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anduin was sneaking out again, wanting to go and speak with the newest adventurers that had arrived from various places in the lands of the Alliance, hopefully for any news of his father, as well as to get away from his guardians and advisor. Recently Lady Prestor had grown rather distant, as though she had received some very difficult news, but she wouldn't say anything more than that her brother passed away when asked.

Lady Malfoy had been making quite the stir in the Keep as of late as well, dropping by more and more often, speaking of this or that with Anduin specifically, as well as Highlord Bolvar, much to the official advisor's distaste, but Anduin much better welcomed the other woman's presence. He could tell that Lady Malfoy was a mother, as she had that air of elegance with the familiar touch of kindness that he like to think fondly reminded him of his own mother who had died while he was still an infant.

The clearly noble born woman was quick to sense that Anduin had a lack of female guidance in his life, and had stepped into the role without even being asked, to the point where the guards of the keep merely stood aside if she approached, learning quickly that she would get access to the keep with or without their say.

Such was the case as Anduin made to sneak out the front doors of the keep, just as the woman was making her approach. "Ah, young Anduin, just the prince I was looking for," she said warmly, cheering the otherwise cloudy day that had seemed ready to rain over the city.

"Lady Malfoy, what brings you here this day?" Anduin replied, being courteous while still showing a small sense of urgency to escape before it was discovered he was gone.

"I was just wondering if someone would assist me in moving another couple of families into their new homes in the park district, and was going to ask if the Highlord could spare a few men," The woman stated, even as Anduin heard approaching footsteps behind him, which could only belong to Lady Prestor.

"I'll do it!" he said quickly, shocking the guards at either side of the entrance. It would be highly irregular for the Prince of Stormwind to take such a hands-on approach to helping his citizens, and Anduin knew it to be so, but if he could get away from Lady Prestor it would be worth it.

Lady Malfoy looked up slightly, seeing the approaching woman, and smiled knowing, just like a mother, "what a respectable young man, I would more than appreciate your assistance, my prince." Offering her hand, Anduin quickly took it, and together they started away from the Keep, even as the flabbergasted guards could do nothing to stop it, despite being under orders to prevent Anduin from going anywhere on his own.

"Sick of your studies already I gather?" the Lady asked only once they were out of sight of the Keep.

"How'd you guess?" Anduin asked sheepishly.

"My dear prince, I had a son very much like you, and he wouldn't want to be wasting away in that Keep for even half as long as you do. He'd be out playing or finding secrets of his father and mine within minutes of being left alone. Draco was such a handful when he was your age…" she replied, wistfully remembering things.

"How old is he now?" Anduin asked, curious, and slightly hoping for the potential of a friend in the influential family.

"Oh, he's all grown now, off with his father working hard to make the world a better place I expect…" Lady Malfoy replied, even as they took a shortcut through a brightly lit alley toward the Trade District. The family in quest they were to help was staying in The Gilded Rose, and they would be meeting with them there before heading toward the Park District.

"Oh," the prince replied, disappointed, but by the time they arrived in the bustling marketplace of Stormwind, he had smoothed he emotions behind a mask of pleasant cheer for his people. It wouldn't do for the citizens of Stormwind to see their leader in anything less than a positive, upbeat mood, as then they would worry that something was wrong and problems that didn't exist now might crop up, or at least Lady Prestor had taught him.

All thoughts about himself or their current predicaments fled however, when they neared the Gilded Rose, and Lady Malfoy stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat as she placed a hand over her heart. Anduin turned to look at what the woman was looking at, and saw a man exiting the inn and going to a horse tied up by the local fountain.

"Lucius…" Lady Malfoy breathed, before releasing Anduin's hand and rushing to the man, joy sweeping her as the man turned to see her, and they embraced.

The Prince smiled at the scene of the reunited couple, recognizing that this man must be the Lord Malfoy, her husband. They seemed perfectly matched for each other, despite the rather windswept and mildly unkempt condition that the man was in, easily explained by a long ride over rough terrain. Anduin judged that the man had come a long way from the manner in which the horse was gulping water from the fountain, uncaring about the people surrounding it.

Eventually, Anduin walked forward to introduce himself, as was proper for a man of such a standing to have a wife as strong willed and wise as the Lady Malfoy. "Lord Malfoy," he said with a short bow.

"Lucius," Lady Malfoy said, gesturing at Anduin, "may I introduce you to Anduin Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind and my current escort while we move the last of our people into their permanent homes here in the city."

"My Prince, a pleasure," the man said, offering his hand with a small bow of respect, which Anduin took, smiling that the clearly lordly and noble man was treating him as an adult and not a child, despite all appearances. "I must thank you for your service, this wide world is not safe for anyone to travel through alone, and I would have been most saddened if my wife was troubled in any way."

"I would not allow it," Anduin said quickly, "Lady Malfoy has been most gracious and is a common guest at the Keep, I doubt many of the guards would hesitate to leap to her aid if it was required, and the Highlord would unleash the full military of Stormwind upon anyone who dared to threaten her."

Lord Malfoy exchanged a knowing smile with his wife, which Anduin felt more than saw the level of emotion and love transfer between the pair of them. It was a touching moment, but Anduin still remembered their charge, "We were going to help the last family move from the inn if I recall." He mentioned, and Lady Malfoy smiled down at him.

"Yes, that is most correct my Prince, and I know Lucius would love to come and chat with the Macnairs while we assist their family moving in, perhaps give them an update on their husband and father while he's at it." She replied, glancing again at her husband questioningly.

"Yes," Lord Malfoy agreed, "I suppose that I will deliver quite a few updates over the next few days, before I can spend the full measure of my short reprieve and return."

The man trailed off, and Anduin was curious as to what he would be returning to, or where all the other men of Lord and Lady Malfoy's company were, but it would be improper to ask of what was clearly a private matter.

Anduin walked along between the pair, assisting in carrying a small barrel of unknown substance, while the family they were escorting to their new home asked question after question of Lord Malfoy. Anduin was surprised at how limited their belongings were, as there was no cart or carriage of furniture or other personal items, just what the family had on them, and he was quite disturbed at how quickly they must have fled from their previous dwellings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Draco chose to remain behind for the time being," Narcissa asked, when there was a pause in the conversation between the Macnairs and Lucius. He had known that the question would be coming soon, but for the sake of the young Prince walking with them he had refrained from speaking too much regarding Nobu'tan and the events happening up north in any detail.

It had been a long, hard ride from the blackened slopes of Blackrock Mountain, but seeing his wife look so pleased to have him back with her was worth it, and Lucius remembered that he had to thank Nobu'tan for his thoughtfulness in the matter.

"Yes, he felt that it was his place for the moment, but he sends his love and promises that he will visit soon." Lucius consoled her, only offering the smallest glance at the boy walking between them.

For a Prince, the boy carried himself quite well. It was almost like having the young Draco walking with them once again, except this boy was more reserved and thoughtful than his son had been.

It was enough of a difference in presence that Lucius recalled catching himself before he stared in shock at the solid purple humanoids that they found walking about in the park sector of the city. From the size and shape of the very noticeable ears, Lucius would guess that they were elves of some sort, based from what he had been told about elves by Nobu'tan, but he was certain that the younger warlock would have mentioned of their were various shades of blue and purple.

The Prince hadn't noticed Lucius' distraction, but Narcissa was far keener on her husband, "Yes, the Night Elves have been very courteous to assisting our people moving into the park area of Stormwind, their Druids and hunters train here in the more natural part of the city, while they are farther away from their homeland across the sea."

Lucius raised an eyebrow; leave it to Narcissa to investigate everything about people that he wouldn't have even expected. "They are great allies of the Alliance," Anduin mentioned between them, even as they approached the house in question, "I'd always wanted to visit their capital of Darnassus, but it's just too far away for it to be feasible for me to travel to, or so Lady Prestor says."

Lucius paused at the mention of the advisor of the Prince, recognizing the name from something that Nobu'tan had said in regards to the illusioned black dragon mother that they had found in Blackrock Mountain. He had a mental note to speak to his wife in length about it when they had time to themselves.

Lucius entered the magically modified home without a thought, but paused when he saw that Narciss had turned toward the boy Prince. "Now, you might see some things that are rather strange or unusual in this house Anduin," she explained carefully, "but our people have certain… gifts with magic, much like the old High Elves that were once members of the Alliance long before you were born."

The boy nodded; seemingly satisfied as they entered past a floating cauldron that was slowly stirring a violet potion in it. The boy was completely unfazed after the small cautionary warning, which had Lucius thinking. If the Wizarding world had been more open on their original planet, would things possible have gone differently? Would there have been a need for the Dark Lord, or the Legion, or any of the many travesties that had occurred on their planet in its existence.

Could their world have pulled together and resisted the advance of darkness, would Lucius and his family have gone the direction that they had? It was a deep thought, but in the end it was a dream and something that he pushed aside to the fanciful side of his thoughts, focusing on the here and now, his wife, the boy-Prince, and the plans that needed to be fulfilled for Lord Nobu'tan.

In due time the Macnairs were happily settled in their new wizarding home, in the middle of Stormwind City, hidden in plain sight from those who might want to seek them, not that Lucius expected any to find out about their secrets, so more importantly it served as a powerful communication hub for their network of spies throughout the regions of these humans.

"Now Anduin," Narcissa said, patting the Prince on the head, "promise me that you will go straight back to the Keep, and stay out of trouble."

"I promise," the boy said, completely unconvincingly, but Narcissa seemed to know that the boy had no such intentions, and let him go regardless, watching him until he vanished out of the park district.

"He's a good child, and will make a fine ruler of this people one day," Narcissa commented as he departed from their sight.

"If he is allowed to grow up and rule this people," Lucius added, bringing a note of solemnity into the conversation. "Is there somewhere private for us to speak?" he added, seeking her hand and grasping it tenderly. They had been apart for too long, and there was much for them both to catch up on.

"Yes, our own home in the Mage Quarter of the city, near to something I think you will be pleased to discover." Narcissa said secretively, adding a small wink to her seductive smile, and even Lucius was not capable of doing more than following his wife in bemused silence as she led him back through the canals of the city toward their own home, a small two story cottage in the middle of a secondary ring of the quarter, quite near to the tower where Magi studied and learned their craft.

The place had a quality to it that Lucius couldn't exactly place, but it was more than slightly inviting, and had the signature of his wife's love and care written all over it. Small potted flowers, charmed to never die and be ever in bloom sat out front, occasionally eyed by the passing mages, who clearly detected the magic but were unsure what it exactly was, the fools.

Just inside, the crest of the Malfoy family was emblazoned upon a tapestry hanging down from a stairway to the upper floors, where Lucius presume the bed chambers resided. Around the front room, which while not as grand as their manor back on earth, was a cozy and more intimate setting, a small fireplace crackling in the corner and several lovely armchairs and a loveseat spread around the room.

"My dear, I believe you've outdone yourself," Lucius commented, feeling the smooth leather of a winged armchair that was clearly set for him. Narcissa simply smiled and sat in a chair that was covered with a small amount of lace padding, giving it a more feminine appeal and took up her wand from her robes, gesturing at a stack of yarn and needles, which began to knit, filling the room with a comfortable clicking noise of the needles hard at work.

"So, how is Nobu'tan faring now that you've presumable rejoining with his people?" Narcissa asked casually, watching the fireplace for a moment before looking up at her husband. Lucius knew that hard answers were going to be needed soon, and he truly did not want to give them to his wife, for fear of her response, but he had little choice but to pick and choose his battles and this was one he'd willingly lose.

"Not well, I believe," he began slowly, "the young man is rather easily unhinged at the slightest provocation by those he feels are to blame for the death of his mentor and father-figure, and I fear that he will lose all that he has built if he allows his rage to take control."

Narcissa took the explanation in stride, listening carefully to the entire story of their meeting with the Horde, delving into the depths of the mountain followed by ascending to the pinnacle, the foes that they faced and the threats that they overcame. Lucius was keen enough to avoid mentioning that he himself had nearly lost his life, although he suspected that the truth would come back to her soon enough, likely from Draco if he continued to be placed in the line of fire because of Nobu'tan.

"So now he rules this Horde of creatures through proxies," she asked after he had finished, and Lucius nodded. "You were right to urge him toward more patience, and building up what he has gained, before pushing out. I have been keeping my eyes and ears on those in charge of this nation, and they are far stronger than they appear."

Lucius knew that his wife would have done such a thing, as she had so often before during her many parties and dinners with his political rivals and their families. "Naturally," he said with a smile, "but I do fear for you when you do such things here, these people are not to be underestimated for any reason. Lady Prestor in particular…"

"Something is not right with that woman," Narcissa said abruptly, and then paused, "How do you know of her?"

"We suspect that she has connections to a force that we encountered, and tentatively allied ourselves with in that mountain," Lucius said, hesitant to mention the fact that he suspected the woman to be a black dragon, unsure if Narcissa would grasp the full depth of the comment without having seen the dragons of this world.

"I think I can handle what that woman has to throw at me," Narcissa said, turning back to her enchanted knitting, "She thinks she can manipulate the Prince and the Highlord Regent, but I shall convince them that they need a new advisor, one with more practical ideas and better judgment on what is worth their devotion of time and manpower."

"And I bet you have just the candidate to take her place all lined up…" Lucius teased, smirking back at the mildly annoyed look that his wife sent at him. She softened immediately, smiling back at his gentle teasing. "I did greatly miss you, my husband," she said after a pause.

"And I you, my flower," Lucius agreed, knowing that their separation would have been far harder for her to handle than he, as she relied on his strength to support her in her endeavors more than she was even willing to admit. He was the same with her, but he had had Draco to support him while dealing with Nobu'tan, while Narcissa had been alone.

"In due time I must return, but I am under orders from Nobu'tan to come and stay with you for a time, and I must agree that with all that you've done thus far, it is a break that we both quite deserve." Lucius admitted, and Narcissa smiled again.

"He is a far more observant and gracious leader than the Dark Lord ever was," she commented, and Lucius couldn't agree more.

"I just hope his pride and hubris don't lead him to an early grave, along with the rest of us…" Lucius replied, worried about what the boy was up to in his absence.

Narcissa stood, placing her cool hands on Lucius' face, distracting him from his thoughts, "You need to enjoy your vacation, and I know there are some things that you'll want to investigate in due time, but for now, perhaps retiring early to the new room I prepared for us will do you a world of good…"

Lucius had a suspicion that his wonderful wife was indicating far more than she had let on, especially when she intentionally allowed her hands to slowly remove themselves from him as she stepped gracefully toward the stairs, leading him along.

Smirking, and feeling the magic in the air around them, Lucius knew what was to be done, and eagerly followed after his wife up to their new bedroom.

It was part of wizarding tradition to quickly induct a new home to a potential family, and as Draco was already full grown, Lucius felt it was time at last for the Malfoys to try again to enjoy the same blessings that the Weasleys had so easily gained.

The plus would be that his wife would no longer be alone in due time after he had to return to aid Nobu'tan.


	62. C61: Spreading the Net Wide

**Many thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter! the support is greatly appreciated. There's been a deal of random complainers as well, but I cannot help those who clearly just want a target to rage at, and no one ought to try. I am quite proud of the distance I've come from when I started writing eight years ago, and I am not going to back down just because a tiny minority want to complain that my work is not 100% what they expect the story ought to be. that is ingratitude for someone who is pouring their time and efforts into something for free for other to enjoy, and it is very sad that people decide to act like petulant children and throw a fit because deep down they are jealous that someone else is succeeding when they do not even try. thanks again to the people who compose real critical reviews, offering constructive criticism and points of praise rather than deride everything or harp on one or two points they dislike. ~F**

 **Chapter Sixty One**

 **Spreading the Net Wide**

Nobu'tan was true to his word, and didn't even make the attempt to leave the Burning Steppes, let alone the shadow of Blackrock Mountain, at least in person. He did however send many servants far and wide across the land, as well as a great multitude of eyes of Kil'rogg, in order to see what was going on in his new lands.

Meanwhile, he took great time in instructing the few remaining Blackrock warlocks, who had come into their magic and power far after Doomhammer's purge of the Shadow Council from their control over the Horde, giving them knowledge and instruction that he had similarly trained the humans of his homeworld in.

After they had proved that they grasped the new concepts and magic, he and they together, along with the assistance of Draco, they took many of the Fire-gut, Spirestone and Torchbelcher ogres, and under the supervision of Teg'Ramm, created dozens of new ogre magi to bolster the forces of the Horde, these great beasts even more powerful then the warlocks and shaman that had risen up from the tribes on their own.

Nobu'tan even went the extra step to input more Fel energy into each one, allowing them to slightly warp into creatures of the Fel, demonic spikes or claws rupturing along some of them, but otherwise keeping them overall humanoid.

These he sent to learn from Teg'Ramm and the ogre magi of the Stormreaver Clan, after they all pledged their undying loyalty to the Horde. Vosh'gajin returned in due time, well ahead of a column of forest trolls that were making their way slowly back from the far north, reporting that War Master Voone, himself, and many more of their hunters had all but eliminated several tribes of their fellow Amani, capturing many to be forcefully brought back to join the Horde as conscripts.

Their ranks thusly swollen, Nobu'tan had turned his attention to the Searing Gorge, the mostly Iron Dwarf held territory just north of the mountain, and through the on-the-ground leadership of Nek'rosh and Gath'llzogg, successfully started to push back their enemies away from the northern entrance of the mountain fortress, establishing defensive works and a serviceable perimeter that would hold back anything that the displaced dwarves had left to fight with.

As for threats that were farther off, Nobu'tan had discovered a strange thing coming down from the extreme north of the land: a small contingent of orcs, along with strange bovine creatures, some trolls of a variety far different from the Amani, and even walking corpses slowly making their way south toward their lands. From the flags and symbols they bore, he knew that they were part of the imposter's Horde from across the sea, and he could only presume that they sought to investigate his sudden burst of activity. How they had learned of their movement so quickly, Nobu'tan did not know, and that concerned him.

Even still, reports came in from Redridge that the humans and their dwarven allies were trying to send in spies to scout out the southern Burning Steppes, and Nobu'tan could tell that he was making large enough waves in the political scheme that he had aroused the attention of the other world leaders. It would be touch-and-go for a while, but he needed to make sure that he had allies within the cities of his enemies. Stormwind to the south was more than covered, from what he learned through simple letters that arrived from Lucius, and he knew he had much to thank Lady Narcissa for when he finally make the trip to the human city himself.

But this knowledge of another continent perturbed him, and how to get people across the great sea to investigate was proving to be quite difficult. Blackrock orcs were very easy to distinguish from their fellows, the grey-green skin being far different from the typical green of those from other clans, and while the Dragonmaw looked more or less the same, it was difficult to trust any of them to be effective spies.

Therefore he had only one option to turn to, and summoned Draco and Blaise Zabini to meet with him in Nefarian's former chamber, which had been redecorated with many of the items that heralded the Warchief of the Horde, which Nobu'tan had won from Rend in their duel.

That all the Horde respected his choice to set another as his champion and their leader on the field of battle, and even wear the title of Warchief in and of itself was impressive, but the fact that they equally respected and followed his direct orders to the letter served as proof that Rend had been destroying all that his forebears had established. The Horde was ready and willing to serve and destroy, if only one with enough intelligence and ambition was there to take charge.

"You wished to see us, Nobu'tan?" Blaise asked as the pair arrived, and the chief warlock turned from looking over the black lands that he controlled, as he was wont to do as of late.

"Yes," Nobu'tan said, turning to face them, "I have a mission that I wish to send that pair of you upon, as I cannot trust many others that take the form of orc so readily."

Blaise seemed eager, but Draco was hesitant, "What is this mission?" he asked.

"Espionage; infiltrating the camp of our enemies across the sea," Nobu'tan replied, before explaining. "I have learned that there is a base of the imposters to the south, in the jungles of Stranglethorn, where they have set up a station to travel across the sea to their capital. I want the pair of you to go there, learn all that you can, drum up some allies if you can, preferable among their warlock community, and have Draco report back to me. Blaise, I want you to stay afterward and act as my eyes, ears, and hands in this place, making sure that whatever they do, we know it."

It took several moments, wherein Nobu'tan could tell that Draco was calculating the risk and rewards of such a move, as well as deducing if it was a ploy to remove him so that Nobu'tan could do something rash, but in the end he agreed, and Nobu'tan smiled, "You are a dear friend to me, Draco, and I promise you, as I did your father, that I will do no foolish actions while you are away to keep me in check."

That relaxed the younger Malfoy far more than any sort of logic or reasoning, and while there was a smattering of regret, probably from the time it would be until he saw his mother again, the pair departed to prepare for their journey south.

Turning back to face the wide expanse, Nobu'tan smiled. All was coming together quite nicely for their opening moves, and their enemies would have no idea how far the Horde had risen in only the first few weeks of Nobu'tan's control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teg'Ramm was in his element. The three clans of his kin may have spoken a slightly different dialect, but surprisingly the grunts and bone shattering snarls of the ogre language was more or less the same, even across worlds, and he was able to understand them quite easily. Challenging and defeating their warlords was simple enough, as unlike orcs there was no dishonor is using magic or any sort of cheating within their massive four way struggle for supreme dominance, and therefore he was at the highest advantage.

Now as warlord over four clans of ogres, with a host of magi to train, Teg'Ramm was a powerful chieftain of the Horde in his own right, and thusly had requested a formal acceptance by the Horde as a clan, naming themselves the Balefire Clan, as they would rampage like a wildfire of Fel magic over their enemies when unleashed by their master, Nobu'tan the Warlock.

Despite his new leadership, Teg'Ramm allowed the former warlords to continue exercising their authority over their individual clan's ogres, but so long as they recognized his superiority in leadership and understood that he could change anything of their commands at a whim.

With that done, Teg'Ramm turned his attention to locating his new clan in the bowels of the lower portions of the mountain, setting aside large areas of the former dwarven city as their new lair, and set to work training the newly made Fel ogre magi in the ways of the warlock.

He was pleased at the eagerness for destruction that the new breed of demonic warriors showed, and their aptitude for anything to do with the Fel, even outstripping the speed in which he himself had learned the various skills and spells. Naturally they each had a long way to go before they were close to his level of power, but the first steps were surprisingly simple for them to grasp, and soon a flood of imps were surrounding and obeying the intelligent giants without gainsay.

"Teg'Ramm," shouted a voice from the entrance of their lair in the old dwarven city, even the throne room of the dead king beneath the mountain, where Teg'Ramm had found the massive throne quite to his liking, and the other warlords had covered it with skins and large bones to symbolize their subservience to his rule.

Turning, Teg'Ramm grinned at the sight of his master entering his domain, and approached quickly, eager to show off his new domain to his master and the progress of his legion of magi. "Lord Nobu'tan…" he started, but the warlock had eyes locked on the multitude of warlocks training in the center of the old throne room.

"Are they ready for their first engagement?" he asked swiftly, eyes already gleaming with possibility. Teg'Ramm knew that look, and it foreboded death and destruction for their enemies.

"They're as ready as you wish them to be, if I sense what you are about to ask of us." The ogre mage lord replied.

"Then take them to the surface, along with a host of your warriors," Nobu'tan continued, a sinister smile on his face, "the dwarves are growing near to our defenses again, and I want them driven out from the Searing Gorge completely, smash their holdings and drive them out into the badlands or the small gateway to their own lands, so that we can claim the entire gorge as our own."

"As you wish master, we are ready," Teg'Ramm replied, roaring in the ogre language for the others to come, and for more warriors to assemble with weapons and what armor that ogres felt necessary.

Even the previous warlord of the ogres, Urok Doomhowl appeared, ready for battle and smirking dumbly at the likelihood of blood. Signaling for them to follow him, Teg'Ramm led the thunderous charge through the underbelly of the mountain up to the surface, heading for the northern entrance of their fortress. He could tell that the ogres were still in awe of the fact that they were allowed to make their homes in the massive fortress, which had before been only accessible by the orcs of the Horde, so they felt privileged and powerful for such an honor, and would fight to defend their new home to the death.

The dwarves were already attacking their northern ramparts once more as Teg'Ramm exited the massive stone doors that stood ajar from the walls of the mountain. The Blackrock orcs there looked tired and worn, but fought bravely. Bellowing his commands to slay the dwarves and aiming his staff for emphasis, Teg'Ramm let loose a blast of dark energy, striking a dwarf that was about to slay one of their orcish allies, and the defenders turned surprised as the mountain rumbled with the stampeding feet of the ogres of the Balefire Clan.

The howls of their warriors and commanders rent the night, and the dwarves found themselves sorely outnumbered and outmatched against Teg'Ramm's forces, and quickly retreated from the outer bulwarks that the orcs had prepared for their defense. Sadly for the dwarves, the ogres knew no pity and were still very fresh to the battle, and they charged out from their perimeter, slaying any dwarf that lagged behind the main company and followed them across the eastern part of the massive chasm for which the region was named.

Spiders and other natural creatures of the land fled before the rampaging mass of ogres, and the golems of the dwarves, large obsidian things that barely approached the shoulders of the shortest ogre, only managed to slow them down as they charged right over them in their mad bloodlust for the dwarves.

At the northeast corner of the chasm, the dwarves halted, making a stand at their main encampment outside the mountain, forming a line wherein they hoped to withstand the massive hulks that rampaged toward them. However, they forgot that these were no mere brutes these any longer. Teg'Ramm ordered the warlocks to fall back and unleash their magic, surging the warriors to new heights of aggression, as well as flinging powerful devastation into the ranks of the defenders, shattering their line and preventing them from bringing massive pikes to bear against the howling force that bore down upon them.

With a massive crunch of flesh on metal, the ogres hit the shattered line of dwarves like a thunderclap, a few of the hulks going down from crossbow bolts and hastily aimed spear throws. But by and large the dwarves were broken; their own bodies sent flying as the much larger force, in both size and number, collided with them in a torrent of blood and massive clubs.

Soon enough their camp was obliterated, leaving only the dark metal towers overlooking the gorge itself, as the defenders and other members fled to the south, many even intentionally leaping down the gorge itself, sliding down the sides of the near sheer cliffs to their brothers-in-arms that awaited en mass in the pit beneath.

What the dwarves sought in that deep hole, Teg'Ramm was unsure, but they were in a terrible position, as he and his clan now held the high ground. Commanding the warriors to flank around both sides of the gorge and eliminate every dwarf compound they found, with a few warlocks in tow for each group to keep them in line, he himself stepped to the very edge along with the vast majority of his spell casters.

"They think they can hide in a hole from us and our power?" he muttered aloud, Ramm chuckling at Teg's humor. "We shall show them the might of the Fel, then…" Ramm said to the others, who all smirked wickedly at the pronouncement.

Calling upon the link that existed between all warlocks, as well as to the source of all Fel far in the Twisting Nether beyond the stars, the dozen ogre warlocks summoned a cascade of fire from the sly, blanketing a large section of the gorge in the hailstorm of destructive power. Adding to this, Teg'Ramm summoned several of the meteorite Infernals to crash down into the pit, just to shake up the dwarves and stir them from hiding once and for all.

It works, all too well in fact, as the entire bottom of the pit suddenly surged like an overturned ant hill, dwarves scrambling for the only exits, ramps that led up toward the fortress, and the waiting arms of one of the faction of ogre warriors.

Even as they climbed however, the dwarves were dangerously open for Teg'Ramm and his warlocks, who took their pleasure to lob spell after spell at the maddened humanoids, felling many and causing their bodies to tumble back down into the pit. It was a glorious slaughter, and a fine debut as a warlord of a massive, all-ogre clan of the Horde.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius could sense, in the days that he spent with his wife in Stormwind, that there was an undercurrent of magic throughout the city, and one that he was most familiar with. Subtle, yet everpresent, the Fel magic ran as an undercurrent in the city, swept just out of sight by typical means by the sheer weight of the massive Arcane focus of a tower in the center of the quarter, but Lucius was always one that had an easy time finding what he sought, and standing outside of the Slaughtered Lamb tavern, he was sure that the source of the Fel magic lay within.

He had inquired around, and while there was nearly a constant flow of customers in and out of the tavern during the day, and throughout the night, whenever he passed by the main room of the tavern seemed completely empty. That alone was what tipped Lucius off that something was not as it seemed.

Now he was sure that he had the answer. Entering the tavern confidently, Lucius looked around, noting that as he had expected the tavern was completely empty aside from the bartender, a man named Jarel Moor, who did not so much as look at Lucius as the blond aristocrat entered his establishment.

Following his senses regarding the Fel energy, as well as his impressions of where so many would disappear to in such a small building, Lucius immediately went for the door to the back rooms, and was more than pleased to fins a staircase leading down into the basement of the building.

The lightning dwindled to torches very quickly, eventually casting long shadows and seeming eerie enough for a classical witch from muggle fairy tales, but Lucius pressed onward, until the passage down gave way to a large room with a bonfire set in the center, and eight humanoid figures conversing among themselves around it. They all stopped however, when Lucius came into view.

"Are you lost, friend?" one of them, a man in black robes offset by blue and grey asked, an imp peering out from behind its master's leg.

"Oh, I believe I've found the right place at last," Lucius said, releasing the full might of his own Fel magic to be sensed by the other warlocks, some of who recoiled at the concentrated demonic power that the mysterious stranger in their midst suddenly held.

The others, probably the more experienced, leaned forward, attracted to such raw demonic strength. "I see," the apparent leader stated, smirking at the show of knowledge regarding the Fel, "then what can we of the darkness do for one already so well affiliated with the knowledge we hold?"

Lucius smiled. Spreading his hands wide in a low gesture of humility, he began, "I come to Stormwind as a bearer of… an excellent opportunity, to all those who use the might of the Fel. I represent the Council of the Black Harvest, an order of warlocks that seek to unite all those who use the might of the Legion, to band together and make certain that the demons never again threaten our world as they have in the past…"

It was partly things Lucius himself was making up, based on sentiment that he was sure that Nobu'tan held for himself personally, as well as part of a script that the senior warlock had given directly to Lucius to use in order to lure other warlocks to their cause.

"Certainly that is an enticing offer," the leader replied, stepping nearer, and offering his hand, "Zardeth," he introduced himself, "I am the leader of this coven of warlocks here in Stormwind, and throughout the region. I suppose we will have much to discuss about this Order of the Black Harvest, now won't we?"

Lucius knew that they would desire more information, and it probably was for the best, as he knew that Nobu'tan would inevitably send people to petition other races of warlocks to join them as well, which may or may not cause conflict between the established factions that already existed. Better to hash out how that was going to work now, before anything else occurred.

Walking with Zardeth to the back part of the cellar, where another level of stairs led down into a tomb-like series of catacombs, they had privacy from the others to speak openly. "While I am indeed intrigued by this development," the man started, turning to face Lucius, "I am hesitant to take you up on it at this present time."

"Oh," Lucius said simply, prompting the man to explain more behind his decision. Many gifted people in the world of magic lacked greatly in the realm of psychology, and Lucius was a master at getting the ends that he desired from those around him, through the merest of words.

"You see," the local warlock leader started, just as Lucius had wished, "between the local branches of the Stormwind Mages and even the Church of the Light, we are all but forced into operating within the shadows, feeding off what scraps of students the Mages cast aside in their arrogance. For us to suddenly become bolder and have an influx of strength, I cannot trust that our safety would be assured out in the streets. We are an unwelcome necessity of life these days, as the study of demons is all around us thanks to history, yet still heavily looked down upon."

"I see," Lucius said, seeing partly through the man's circular and highly fallible logic. The rhetoric was unimportant, so much as the resistance due to fear, fears clearly misplaced upon a desire for safety, but Lucius could tell that the safety that Zardeth felt was not for his underlings, but for his place of power above them. If he willingly joined with another, he would no longer be in charge, and he seemed one who did not take kindly to being given orders from what probably seemed like an unknown.

"Perhaps I can assure you at a later time, when the leader of our Order travels this direction to meet with the warlocks that have joined the Black Harvest. I am sure that you and he will get along famously." Lucius said diplomatically. They had been delivered the message, and Lucius was more than welcome within their ranks, which served both what Nobu'tan had desired, as well as permitted Lucius another avenue of learning the powers of the Fel, even if what he already knew was greater than this coven, they might have some obscure technique that he was as of yet unaware of.

"I will look forward to such a meeting with great interest," Zardeth replied, smiling and likely thinking that his power was now secure, and that no such leader was forthcoming. It would prove only all the more amusing when Nobu'tan did arrive, sometime in the near future if Lucius had any say in the matter. Having the young man cooped up to the north among orcs and ogres, which probably very good for his own emotional state currently, could not be good for his mental health as a human in the long run, regardless of where his personal loyalties lay.

"Naturally you are more than allowed to join us as often as you please, Lord Malfoy," Zardeth stated as they started to return to the others, smirking as though he had surprised Lucius by knowing his identity. Lucius was already aware that he and his wife had made quite the stir in the city, being more than Noble-like in attire and behavior, and yet clearly not from any family that the nobility, or royalty, were aware of. To suddenly aspire to positions of power, through Narcissa's connections with Prince Anduin, was a massive breach in standard protocol, although still such a blindside move that most of the potential political opponents in Stormwind had no clue what to make of their rise to influence.

From what Lucius recalled from the history lessons about his family, it had been much the same when the Malfoy's had first come to Britain from France. The very thought of his wife making history repeat itself in their lifetimes reminded Lucius of how astoundingly lucky he was that she was his, and he hers. And he loved her all the more for it.

"Of course, but for now I must return home to my wife," Lucius said by way of excuse, and started for the exit. "I will return at a later date, but until then farewell."

The other warlocks said nothing in response, but Lucius felt their eyes upon him as he departed. A very distrusting bunch, to say the least, and Lucius felt that it was more than an earned reputation that they had among the people of Stormwind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort was growing bored with the day to day activities of fortifying the mountain. While Potter was restrained by his honor to the areas around the mountain, and still doing a massive effective job of securing the lands to the north and south for their own use despite his personal restrictions, the former Dark Lord of Britain couldn't help but feel rather underused in all these efforts.

It might have been partly because the young brat had no idea what he could actually accomplish with Voldemort's help, or that he wisely did not want his former enemy so close to him, but in either case the Dark Lord was not going to stand for it any longer.

He may want to kill the warlock, but as of right now he couldn't have that lovely pleasure, so he would work to set up the opportunity for when the time was right. Striding into the wide chamber that Potter had claimed for his own, with the wide view over the entire blackened landscape, Voldemort ignored the glares of the orc guards that stood just outside the doorway. None of the Horde creatures had enjoyed his presence, sensing the death and rotted husk that stood among them, but their fear kept them in place from trying to hinder him in almost any endeavor that the now Death Knight put his mind to.

Nobu'tan was looking over a large map upon a wide table, featuring a layout of the surrounding territory, as well as troop placement and other war-like appendages that were scavenged from around the camps. The other leaders of the Horde had long ago returned, and were devising their defenses in the event that the mountain was attacked.

Lingering off to the side for a time, Voldemort watched as the young human stood comfortably with the trolls, orcs, and ogre around the table, each pitching their ideas of what to do with the massive patches of land they had just claimed to the north, and making mention of a possible invasion force coming down from the far north.

In most cases, Voldemort would have only paid partial attention, focusing rather on the object of his hatred and obsession for nearly two decades, but something about the conversation caught his attention. The troll, a shadow hunter judging from the gangly creature's armor and choice of weapon, spoke while tapping the land far north of where they resided. "By de time we be returnin' ta de mountain, dem orcs and deir allies already be movin' toward Stromgarde. We barely avoided dem, cause o deir undead seein us movin' in da shadows."

Voldemort perked up at the mention of other sentient undead in this world. It might have proven interesting if he had been the one up there to encounter them, but that had not been the case.

"Ah, perhaps we need to slow them down slightly before they have opportunity to reach us, then…" Potter said slowly, his eyes following that of the troll's to spot Voldemort in the shadows of the room, watching them.

"Come now, Voldemort, no need to stay near the doorway and eavesdrop. You are welcome here among us all." The warlock said, and the near-biting sound of the words of welcome were like nails on the Dark Lord's nerves, but he obey nonetheless, as it would serve him better to have a vantage point closer to see what was discussed.

"We were just discussing the oncoming group of various races from the north, which are highly suspected to be members of the false Horde from across the sea." Nobu'tan explained, as though Voldemort wasn't already aware of that.

"So we attack and destroy them utterly before they can even reach our territory…" Voldemort suggested, and the younger human smirked.

"As I would have thought before as well, however there is something more tantalizing that could be done." Potter replied, "while we allow them to see some of our progress, I have no intention of allowing these spies anywhere near the mountain, let alone to know who leads the Horde, however, in the meantime, I want you to go north and follow them when they return, and see where their base in the north is. If they have undead in their entourage, you might find a place to infiltrate and discover how they discovered about us so quickly."

It was… actually a good plan, Voldemort had to admit. Granted he didn't have all the details of exactly how Potter planned to keep their group from discovering about the mountain and all the recent changes, but following them when they finally turned back would actually have a good bit of merit.

"And I take it you want me to travel this alone?" he said, wondering.

"You'll have some of the Amani Trolls with you, they are excellent trackers and superb assassins if the need warrants it," Nobu'tan replied, and the Shadow Hunter nodded in understanding. Voldemort however knew the real reason. They were going to be watching him, reporting back whether he had any ability to betray them before arriving at whatever end goal they might find to the north.

"As you wish…" he said regardless, turning to depart. Let the boy play his games for now, Voldemort would still be waiting. After all, thanks to the warlock, he had all the time in eternity to play the long game now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was surprised how easy it was for himself and Blaise to travel through the human lands on horseback. As Pureblood children they had each learned the noble arts of riding, and were able to make excellent time through Redridge and down into the shady forest of Duskwood, which despite the local reputation of many dark and rather terrifying things happening in the deep area under those trees, nothing dared to challenge the two powerful warlocks.

Therefore they passed without confrontation down to the south, seeking the jungles known as Stranglethorn, and the orc encampment that lay therein. Knowing that they'd have to shift their forms once out of sight, Draco kept a sharp eye out as they crossed the last bridge from the forest into the boarders of the jungle, spotting the small campsite of Alliance members on a rocky outcropping that had good visibility of the road.

"Would it seem too unusual for travelers to bypass their camp altogether on their way south?" Blaise asked, the darker skinned man stretching from their two days worth of travel.

"Can't be sure, but would it harm anything if strange people crossed further south and disappeared?" Draco countered, smirking.

They were about to proceed onward, when Draco paused, watching the slowing road as it went through a narrow gap in the rises bordering the entrance to the jungle proper. There were other shapes there, moving swiftly toward the human camp, and from what Draco could see they had weapons drawn.

"It seems we may have a simple distraction making things all the easier for us to slip by." He said, nodding in the direction of the raiders heading for the Alliance post.

Blaise smirked, "So we run the gauntlet of other potential enemies to avoid arousing the suspicion of another, perfect…" he said sarcastically. Nevertheless, when Draco kicked his horse into a full gallop, the other pureblood wasted no time in following suit, and even as the first clashes of weapons and shouts of distress sounded from the camp, they were already pounding down the road toward the pass.

As added measure, Draco started weaving the illusionary magic that shapes his form into that on an orc, which was just as good that he did, as another set of hulking warriors appeared in the pass as he and Blaise entered it, leaping back as the pair of horses exploded past them on the road.

There was a surge of vicious words from the creatures they passed, but nothing more, and Draco felt that they were well in the clear for the time being, safely entering the jungle and on their down the road with all haste, crossing over the wide river on a surprisingly sturdy bridge that even supported them while mounted without so much as a creak of protest.

"Judging from the lack of supplies those warriors carried," Blaise said as he caught up with Draco, his disguise also firmly in place, "they couldn't have been stationed too far from here, we should keep an eye out for any off shooting paths from the main road south."

Draco nodded in agreement, and they set off again, slower this time as they felt that they were likely not to be accosted in their present form, despite riding horses which were almost decided a human selected mount in this world.

Just as Blaise had suggested, there was a turnoff not far ahead, and from their position high on the raised ridge where the road ran, it seemed to lead out to the coast, and some sort of walled off outpost lay at the edge of the shore, but the trees obscured somewhat the sight. "We could try there," Draco suggested, and their pair turned off the main road and started toward the place, growing more confident as they drew nearer.

The spiked walls and patrolling orc guards were a clear indication that they had found the right place, as the massive tower within the walls currently had a massive flying blimp sidled up next to it, while smaller green creatures ran to and fro, gathering supplies to load and offload from it to the tower.

A large orc seemed to be the one in charge as they entered the base camp, earning strange looks from the guards for their mounts, but Draco cared not for them or their opinions. So long as they weren't attacked, he would tolerate seeming odd. The leader turned toward the pair of them as they approached, "Welcome to Grom'gol, travelers. Before we get off on the wrong foot, I'll have you both know that I won't have any slackers in my base camp. I expect two healthy orcs like you to pull your own weight around here." He said brashly, clearly quite proud of his position and some unknown track record that Draco suspected he could support with the loyalty of his troops.

"That's fine, we're only passing through, on our way to the capitol," Draco explained, eyes darting up to glance at the large blimp that was still docked at the tower.

"Ah, then you might want to hurry," the commander stated, "that is the zeppelin heading to Durotar, and it's leaving soon. You may have to leave your horses however, but check with the zeppelin master and they may let you take them on board for a price."

What the orc implied by 'for a price,' Draco wasn't sure. Naturally he would expect to pay for boarding and his mount on the zeppelin, but the way that the orc said it was almost as though it was some sort of inside joke among their kind. Thanking him regardless for the tip, Draco led Blaise and their mounts toward the base of the tower, ascending the spiral ramp quickly to the landing platform where he found, to his dismay and somewhat annoyance, several goblins working to load the last of the supplies onto the flying boat.

"Oh come on!" one of them shouted at seeing the pair with horses, "you honestly expect us to fit those on here as well, and still be able to fly straight? No, no absolutely not, you'll have to leave those here and pick them up later…"

Draco instantly knew what was going on, and why the orc had mentioned money in such a manner. "Ah, that is a shame, but perhaps I might have something that'll change your mind?" he said silkily, starting to untie a pouch with coins in it, allowing the bag to jingle ever so slightly. The goblin's eyes narrowed, but the greed was apparent in his face as he waited expectantly.

Sighing, and knowing that he would end up paying far more than he wished, Draco removed a small fistful of gold, which made not only the goblin who addressed him, but the others paused and stare. It was far more than they expected one customer to have on them, clearly.

Watching the beings carefully, Draco started to count out a small number, waiting until their eyes were just short of fully opened before stopping at roughly twelve pieces of gold. "Will this do?" he asked, offering the twelve coins to the goblin, who snatched them greedily away, his sharp nails almost scratching Draco in their haste.

"For you, that's plenty, but…" the goblin started, but Draco cut him off.

"For both," he said with finality, and the goblin scowled, but pocketed the gold and beckoned the pair of them on board, along with the horses. Indicating a spot in the back of the lower deck for them to be tied, the goblin left them to take care of the remainder of the cargo, and Draco and Blaise were alone once more.

"Clever, to have goblins control their modes of travel," Blaise said in a low voice, but Draco shook his head.

"No worse than allowing them to manage your money," he countered, and the pair of Purebloods shared a small smirk at the memory of the stupidity of their forefathers back on their world. Goblins were a strange folk, and whether these ones were more or less like those of Wizarding Britain was yet to be seen, but the love of gold seemed to be a overarching quality among the small green beings.

Stopping the next one that descended to place a box of supplies, Draco asked, "How long should the trip to Orgrimmar take?"

The goblin raised an eyebrow, as though Draco ought to have known that already, but responded, "Depends…"

"On what?" Blaise asked, and the goblin smirked toothily at him.

"On whether we blow up over the ocean or not…" the creature replied nastily, and without even a hint of sarcasm, and walked away. Draco was sure then, as the ship started to pull away, that these goblins were way worse than any of the ones from their home planet.

Looking out the back of the cabin-like storage area, Draco spotted the sea churning far below them as they flew, the view partially blocked by the large rotating propeller that sent them forward. It was quite the marvel that such a device actually functioned. He had never studied what the muggles had been capable of before the destruction of their world by the Legion, but Draco suspected that they had had things of this nature, large ships that flew through the air or the like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mephistroth watched with pleased amusement as the little warlock began to fortify his own little hold in the middle of the Eastern Kingdoms. The young human had done quite a lot in the first moments that he had returned to Azeroth, and despite it clearly being motivated by his own hubris and wants rather than loyalty to the Legion and their inevitable goal; it served an excellent purpose regardless.

The boy would serve as an excellent distraction, at the least, while other methods of ushering the Legion to Azeroth were underway, first and foremost being relative to the traitor, Illidan Stormrage. Mephistroth knew some of the details, but this was a fight that was thoroughly in the hands of Kil'jaeden, with Archimonde's body still being reformed in the core of Antorus following his defeat at the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

All that the Dreadlord was aware of at the present time was that, with the combination of the reactivation of the Dark Portal, which was slowly being achieved by Lord Kazzak, in combination with a traitor in the betrayer's ranks, the demonlord sought to distract the forces of the Alliance and the Horde with the unveiling of Illidan as their enemy, while a force returned to Azeroth to prepare the way in the most powerful font of power that the world still possessed: the remnants of the Sunwell.

Knowing that if this was a perfect success, that Nobu'tan and his forces would be cast aside, Mephistroth figured it would soon be time to fill in the warlock of some of the details, and direct him to aiding the traitor when the time came for the Dark Portal to open once more. In the meantime, there were a few loose ends from the past that they could effectively seal with the aid of the human warlock, namely the lingering Scourge forces around Quel'Thalas, as well as the Legions age old enemies of the Old Gods and their insectoid servants.

It would certainly be enough work for this new faction of ancient Horde remnants to keep them from growing too powerful, and still pushing forward to the grand plan of the Legion's ultimate return.

Soon, for now however, Mephistroth was content to watch the little warlock play warchief, and establish himself as a new power in the world. There would be time enough for them to act once the boy wasn't about to be confronted with armies from both Horde and Alliance simultaneously. The Legion was persistent with pursuing its goals, but not stupid enough to ruin a good tool when it was still too early for its use. Nobu'tan would be ready soon, and only when he was would the Dreadlord come to visit him once more, and give him further instruction.


	63. C62: Within the Walls of the Enemy

**I love those special moments when a burst of inspiration smack you in the head like a bat, and you cannot help but be compelled to write for anything and everything that you get your hands on. One of the best feelings ever in my opinion. Thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter. Please enjoy the next! ~F**

 **Chapter Sixty Two**

 **Within the Walls of the Enemy**

Nobu'tan read the missive from Lucius again, just to make sure that he was not losing his mind.

' _Lord Nobu'tan,_

 _In the process of making contact with those warlocks that linger among the human nation of Stormwind, I have found their largest coven. However, their leader holds himself quite above his station. In the process of diplomatically appeasing him, while establishing that we hold ourselves rightfully above their authority, I may have suggested that you would come to the city and meet with him, on some conceived tour of the area and the local members that have joined with the Order of the Black Harvest._

 _I know that you are likely extremely busy with work regarding the mountain and our newly acquired forces, but when you can spare the time, this portkey will take you to my and Narcissa's new home in the mage quarter of Stormwind, where we will be most times of the day and evening. Knowing that you likely have means and then some of transporting yourself back to the mountain, I doubt it would be a difficult matter to come down and 'meet' with these warlocks, allaying them of their fear of having their local power usurped by our much larger organization._

 _Lucius,_ '

Laughing aloud at the absurdity of some small time warlock thinking that they're power was anything compared to his own, Nobu'tan rolled the parchment, hand-delivered by one of the members of the Order of the Black Harvest, and set about making preparations. There was a small lull in business at Blackrock, so he could easy disappear for a day or two without consequence. Even if something did happen however, there were standing orders for all his generals and commanders, leading up to the direction of Teg'Ramm to lead them should the worst occur and they were attacked.

The scouting party from the north was still at least a week away, crossing through the swampy Wetlands and there was no threat from the last remnants of the Dark Iron dwarves, who had been driven out to the rocky Badlands and held there by a small outpost of the false Horde.

Leaving a few small notes about matters that were trivial enough to be taken care of without him, Nobu'tan squeezed the small stone that functioned as a personal hearthstone to the Malfoy's new home. The blue light took effect, and Nobu'tan wondered what he was about to see in the newest abode of his closest wizarding allies.

The flash of light blinded him momentarily, and when it receded, the warlock looked about at the small, and rather cozy three story home. It was nothing like the cold expansive manor that they had had back on earth, but there was still a neat touch to it that screamed influence. Not the power of gold behind them, but something more. It was definitely something he would expect that had been created by Narcissa Malfoy.

"Lord Nobu'tan," said the voice of Lucius, even as the man appeared out from another room, smiling warmly as he greeting Nobu'tan.

"Lucius," the senior warlock replied, still looking about at the décor, "Narcissa's work I presume, I highly approve of the choices."

"Thank you," the same woman replied, also entering from the room that her husband had just vacated, "It took a small amount of doing, but most everything was local created or purchased from the city, only slightly modified by me to fit the style I was looking for perfectly."

"Well, I am no critic of the arts, least of all by human standards, but I feel that you captured the elegance of your family perfectly," Nobu'tan said with a small bow of acknowledgement. "Alas, there is only so long that I can spend for a social call, I was told that Lucius had some potential allies for me to meet in the city, but I would love to spend the evening meal with you both, and perhaps visit some of the families of our other friends," Nobu'tan added, pulling a stack of letters from his robes, "I have plenty of requests to pass along correspondence that were quickly thrust upon me."

Seeing the hopeful look on Narcissa face, the chief warlock wilted slightly, "I'm sorry Narcissa, but I sent Draco and Blaise off on a mission to get to the other continent before I had the summons to come here, but he should return soon, and I will give him leave to come visit you in person then."

She nodded, saddened by the lack of news, which made Nobu'tan somewhat guilty, but he had had few allies to choose from that he trusted to see the mission through to success.

"I'll be glad to show you to all our allies' homes when your business is concluded," Narcissa said. "I trust you'll be here for a few days so we can travel out to the other villages that they've spread through. We have people all the way into Westfall and back to Redridge. The housing market was rather thin in this area, as it seems that the nation is still recovering and settling back into its old ways."

Nobu'tan nodded. He would stay as long as needed to fulfill his charge to hand deliver every letter to the families of his allies from earth. It was the least he could do in exchange for their loyalty.

Lucius casually checked the time of day with his wand, before turning to go back further into the home, "It's still early yet before the people I mentioned meet, so would you care for some tea, Narcissa found a rather charming little shop that gave her more than enough of their product for our private use." He offered.

"I suppose it could hurt to relax a small amount after the last few weeks we've had," Nobu'tan admitted, allowing himself to be coaxed into the sitting room, where an addition cup of piping hot tea was provided for him.

That was when he noticed that Narcissa herself was preparing the tea and providing it for the pair of them, rather than House Elves, which he found as quite odd. House Malfoy had had nearly twenty of the little creatures by the time of the opening of the Fel gate on earth, so where had they all gone?

As though noticing his gaze, Narcissa quickly explained, "we felt that it wouldn't be too fair to continue possessing House Elves, especially with there being none of their kind on this world, it would become a crutch that we'd lose sooner or later, and together we agreed to release them before departing earth."

"Times were hard at first," Lucius admitted, "but I think that in the long run it will be good for us to do more ourselves, and put things in perspective."

Nobu'tan hummed in response. Personally he would have kept them for other purposes, rather than comfort, but in the end it was the decision of the Malfoys, rather than Nobu'tan himself, so he was content with how things were as it stood.

It was a calm afternoon, and Nobu'tan could hear outside quite well, with the movement and speaking of passersby, many of whom commented on the house in which he was residing for the moment, and he smirked at Narcissa, "It seems that I am not the only one who took immediate notice of the charm that your home possesses."

There was a knock at the door, and Narcissa went to answer, even as Lucius checked the time quickly before stowing his wand away. Nobu'tan understood the reasoning. Most humans, or other beings in general, had never before witnessed magic quite like the humans of earth, so it would have become an oddity that the Mages would definitely want to study, and that would be rather inconvenient for them and their plans if it were to happen.

Narcissa quickly returned, escorting a young boy, hardly older than Nobu'tan had been when he left Azeroth so long ago. "Look who came to visit us Lucius," Narcissa said, smiling warmly down at the boy.

"Ah, Prince Anduin, a pleasure as always for you to visit," Lucius stated, sitting up straighter and nodding at Nobu'tan, "We were just welcoming a friend of ours who recently arrived to carry news of our people to the east."

"Tobias Banu, your Majesty," Nobu'tan stated, easily falling back into the false name that he had given the Kirin Tor so long ago. It was a good fit for his identity in the human nations, so long as none of the magi recognized him from the Violet Citadel so long ago. From his gage of the years since his departure, he guessed that most of the Council of Six ought to have been still alive, and most ought to have remembered his name, and the mysterious circumstances of his disappearance.

The young prince smiled widely at being introduced to him however, and together they spoke with the Malfoys about events going on about the city, especially the recent and upcoming festivals. It was rather interesting to note that despite being royalty, the child was more of a simple boy than what the orc-raised human would have guessed.

Not long later, there was another knock on the door, and while Narcissa departed, the boy shrunk slightly at the sounds of the people outside. "Anduin, did you have permission to leave the Keep this time?" Lucius asked, sounding more grandfatherly than Nobu'tan had ever heard him sound before, and the boy-prince blushed slightly in guilt.

"I suppose that answers that, doesn't it?" Nobu'tan pointed out, but he was smirking at the rebellious child. By all rights the boy ought to be his enemy, as leader of the Kingdom of Stormwind, but he couldn't bring himself to hate a young boy, even if his councilors conspired against his fledgling nation.

"My Prince, Lord Bolvar is here for you," Narcissa said sweetly as she returned, and even as Nobu'tan turned to look, a large, heavily armored man stood just outside the room. Subtly hiding the smile that he had for the antics of his prince in singling out the most influential noble family in the city, Nobu'tan stood and glanced at Lucius, who was also smiling at the prince.

"Anduin," Bolvar said, struggling to maintain his composure of seriousness, "Lady Prestor was most displeased to find that you had disappeared before her lesson on recent politics, perhaps it would be best if we returned to the Keep."

The boy seemed to wilt under the half-hearted look of disappointment on his Regent's face, but the man softened a moment later, "perhaps we will take a more scenic route back to the Keep, just to make sure that the route if safe enough for you my Prince."

Anduin smiled, and together the pair departed from the house. "A common visitor I gather?" Nobu'tan said after they had gone, and Lucius shrugged.

"The boy has a rather pleasant nature to him, and he reminds us greatly of Draco when he was younger, would you fault this older couple the chance to act a bit like grandparents before their time?" he said.

"Long before their time, I might add," Narcissa said, stepping back into the room and rubbing her stomach area suggestively. Nobu'tan's eye shot up at the declaration. "You know so soon?" he asked, looking between the pair of older wizards. Lucius smirked, while Narcissa merely smiled.

"Well, I'd say congratulations are in order, and I suppose I ought to be the one to tell Draco when he returned first thing then…" Nobu'tan stated, feeling genuinely happy for the pair that had been as parents to him while on earth, whether he had appreciated it or not.

"It is about time we should visit the others now, my Lord," Lucius said, checking the time once more, and walking to the door. "We will return before it grows too late my love," he said, kissing Narcissa on the cheek, and together Lucius and Nobu'tan departed, steering away from the Mage's Tower, and toward the northern section of the district.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Onyxia was growing most irritated by the recent developments, both in and out of Stormwind. The boy, Anduin, was growing ever more difficult to control, stealing away day after day to visit the Malfoys, and while she had recognized that the woman who had so easily bested her control of both the boy and the Lord Regent was with the advisor of her new ally, Nobu'tan, she still was most incensed that such a move on her power had been made, whether by his design or not.

Moreover, her outside activities had struck a snag. The captive King, Varian Wrynn, had been successfully split into two beings, a complacent fool that would obey her every command, and the rebellious spirit of the lion, but before her servants could deliver the puppet back to her, Naga had attacked and captured the useful Varian, holding him ransom against the Broodmother.

It might take a small amount of maneuvering, but she was already prepared to pay their outrageous sum, and set it up as a tax upon the people of Stormwind itself. They desperately wanted their King, despite many not even being aware that he never arrived at the Theramore Peace summit, and they would have their King returned, only for Onyxia to control his every move.

Then, all of Stormwind would be hers, and if it was possible, she would unite the forces of Nobu'tan with her Stormwind, and they could take control of all the Eastern Kingdoms, from Ironforge all the way to Silvermoon. But… was that even what she wanted anymore?

It had been her and Nefarian's plan for their eventually takeover of the entire continent, but without her scheming brother, did Onyxia really want to go through with all the tedious need for ruling over the other mortal races on the continent, as well as fighting those who would surely come from Kalimdor to fight her?

It was definitely something to consider, but part of the plan was already in motion, and unable to be hindered. The ransom was already en route to the naga, and the loyal and obedient Varian would be returning to Stormwind soon enough. Perhaps she would be content with just Stormwind, and leave the ruling of the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms to another, or even more interesting, she could lead Stormwind into a golden age of prosperity, and actually help the lives of the humans that lived therein…

The options seemed limitless, but she had no idea where she wished to turn. Things had been far simpler with Nefarian dictating her moves, but without her brother she would have to take charge. If Nobu'tan hadn't already grasped power that held sway over even the Broodmother of the Black Dragonflight, she would gladly have continued the plan in revenge for Nefarian's death, but her new alliance changed everything.

Turning from where she had been more or less staring into space, she spotted Bolvar and Anduin's return, and noted that it had taken significantly longer than usual. They were both trying to hide their smiles, which told her that they had gone out for some fun as they considered it before returning.

Strangely enough, that did not bother the Broodmother as much as she thought that it would. Dare she even state that she was starting to view Anduin as her own, just as much as any of the whelplings back in Blackrock Mountain?

Perhaps it was so, and the disguised Black Dragon felt her face relax as the pair approached, the irritation ebbing away as she watched the way that little Anduin was relaying some tale to his guardian and regent, likely something that he learned or otherwise overheard at the resident of the Malfoys. It was something she had heard before, some tale about their affinity for all things magical, and indeed their home in the Mage District was truly something extraordinary.

It was enough so that Lady Prestor had gone and viewed it herself, just to confirm the rumors, and she had been impressed at what she had seen. As a powerful dragon, Onyxia was familiar with every known quality of magic, but these seemingly frivolous changes, all wrought by the hand of Narcissa Malfoy herself were something altogether unknown to even the Broodmother, and that warranted a great deal of respect and caution.

She had a feeling that there was much about the faction now occupying her brother's fortress that she did not know, and that caused her to feel a small sense of worry. "Ah, you found him Lord Bolvar," she said as the pair finally approached, the prince looking rather sheepish; albeit not terribly apologetic to running off from her lesson.

"I gather you weren't in the mood for another political lesson this evening, were you Anduin?" she asked gently, catching the boy off guard. He had clearly expected some sort of lecture, which the Broodmother had initially been more than gearing up to deliver, but with other matters pressing of late and her most recent change of view, she had dropped the idea and decided that the prince possibly required more time to simply be a child his own age again, and therefore some of his necessary duties and training could wait a little longer.

"Perhaps I have been too strict with you lately," Onyxia said, almost giggling at the looks on both the regent and the prince at her words. Were they truly so out of character? "I forget sometimes that despite the fact that you are the ruler of Stormwind, you are still very young, and need time to grow into yourself as well as duties that will be expected of you by your people. How else can we expect you to become a wise leader like your father unless you are allowed to discover who you are as you grow…?"

Sighing slightly, Onyxia decided that she had better commit to what she was saying, "We'll cut down the hours in the day that you need to devote to lessons and studying, and allow you more time to go out and play, but don't try to take too much advantage of this freedom. The Malfoys especially have much to do, and while I don't doubt they enjoy your company, there are times where they really ought to be allowed to go about their own business." She said, only slightly allowing some of the chiding back into her voice.

Even as she walked away, she could tell that neither of them knew how to respond, even to each other regarding the strange change in their advisor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco woke with a start as the zeppelin finally started to make a decent, shuddering somewhat as it slowly changed direction. Turning to look, he still could only see water out of the rear of their vessel, but now there were small outcroppings of red-brown rock that jutted from the sea, and he could only guess that they were at last approaching land.

It had taken far longer than he had suspected the trip would, but it might have had to do with all the extra weight of the supplies that the goblins were shipping, and therefore he did not complain about the long journey.

Venturing to the top deck, while Blaise slumbered on a bit longer, Draco watched the desolate-seeming land approach ever swifter, and the outlying tower that flashed odd, almost muggle, lights to guide them in.

It was still quite early yet, and the sun hadn't risen over this land at that time, which made it quite difficult to make out the city that lay beyond, much farther up from the beach that the zeppelin tower was constructed upon, but Draco could at the least tell that it was only the front gate that was visible from here, and that there was far more of the city build into the canyon beyond.

"You'll want to wake your companion and get yourselves ready to depart," the nearest goblin advised, "it'll take a long time for us to unload, and leaving the ship will be difficult once we start."

Sensing the real reason that the goblins wanted the two disguised orcs off their ship as soon as possible, Draco nevertheless went and woke Blaise. They would need to find a place to shelter their horses anyway, before entering the city properly as to not draw too much unwanted attention, as they had back in Grom'gol.

Soon enough the zeppelin touched down, settling in gently to the waiting section of the tower, and ropes were thrown to tie down the craft so that they did not float away. Without even a word of farewell, Blaise and Draco stepped off the zeppelin and onto the land of Kalimdor, and descended the tower quickly.

Walking up the path, and guiding their horses to not draw much attention of the regularly posted guards, they kept their eyes open for any possible place to keep the animals without too much trouble. Luckily, many of the orcish farmers were already up and at work, tending to various pens of pigs and other herd animals.

Approaching one that was nearer to the main gates of the city, Draco inquired about the orc watching and caring for the horses for them while they were present, and while the farmer was clearly curious as to why they had horses as mounts, he made no argument when pieces of silver were placed into his hand for the trouble.

Walking quickly to the gates of the massive city, Draco took the opportunity to admire the handiwork of these orcs, comparing it to the Horde that was stationed at Blackrock Mountain. Whereas those clans preferred to use darker material, and much cruder fashion in their own personal architecture, these clans were more privy to wood, with some stone for foundations and specific placements, where as rooftops were either skins or tarp-like material draped over massive bones, allowing heat to be channeled out of the top in a centralized place. It came across as far more tribal and rustic than Draco had expected, then again with the myriad of races present in the city, he ought not have been too surprised.

Orcs he had expected, naturally, but the presence of trolls, gangly things with ranges of blue and purple skin were quite unexpected, as well as the massive bovine creatures that seemed more in tune with the natural world than any race Draco had ever encountered. Occasional goblins were also seen as the pair of illusioned humans made their way through the canyon city toward their destination, following the flux of magic toward the largest concentration of the Fel.

There seemed to be a network of tunnels below one of the bluffs that formed around the city, and it was there that the Fel magic leaked like a luring arm, beckoning the two powerful warlocks. And yet, even as they approached, Draco could feel many eyes upon the pair of them. "We're being watched," Blaise stated, although neither of them allowed this knowledge of influence how they acted or inhibit their progress. Casting a casual look around, Draco spotted that indeed, many of the guards gripped their weapons tighter when they drew near, and subtle movement along the rooftops of buildings signaled the presence of hidden watchers.

Although it was clear that they were not suspected to be anything other than what they appeared, which told Draco that warlocks, in any fashion, were not terribly acceptable or tolerated in this city, which would work out in their favor, he supposed. The light from the sun above dimmed as they entered the long covered area outside the cave network, which sported rows of buildings on either side, but these were either unimportant shops for the two disguised humans, or else buildings still under construction.

Even as their unseen watchers continued their spying, Draco took note of the great deal of labor and construction that was taking place throughout the city. It was quite the beehive of activity. In due time however, they arrived at the entrance of the underground network, and only then did it seem that those following them ceased to watch them. The pair of humans gave each other a look of knowing, and proceeded in, bypassing the braziers that burned with arcane fire.

Apparently Mages were here in this orcish city as well, kept in close quarters with those who practiced the Fel arts, which was odd for the two humans, due to their experience long ago with Granger and her band of mages that struggled against them for so long.

Walking among the darker section of the city, Draco actually felt quite comfortable with the number of warlocks present. Although to be true, there were few, and many of them actually looked suspiciously at the two new arrivals, there was something encouraging about the open practice of the Fel here that Draco appreciated.

What he did not appreciate were the guards stationed at every entrance to this underground area, all who watched with careful eyes as the warlocks went about their daily routines.

Their presence was also not able to go unnoticed. "Disgusting, isn't it?" said an orc nearby, watching the pair from within his tent, "the way that we're watched and kept separated from the others in Orgrimmar…"

Draco stepped closer, eager to gather what information he could before he had to depart once more, leaving Blaise all alone here to continue their work for them. "One might say that…" he answered noncommittally.

"Step inside young ones, where I can see you better," the other orc urged, and there was something else in his voice that betrayed the need for them to join him inside the tent, something which Draco and Blaise both could tell was to their favor as well.

Stepping in, the orc quickly went about closing the flap covering the entrance to his home, as well as the smaller openings for windows. "It still isn't terribly safe for those of us to speak openly, even within the Cleft of Shadow, the Warchief keeps tabs on those of us that he knows have power or influence within the ranks of the warlocks, and he does not trust our kind whatsoever."

Draco said nothing in response, it was clear that this one knew that they weren't local warlocks, which likely was the cause of their scrutiny as they entered, but their quick and direct travel through to this place, the Cleft of Shadow, seemed to have at least momentarily thrown off suspicion. The only question was how long that alleviation would last.

"Who are you two, and where do you hail from?" the orc asked, clearly more than a little interested in the arrival of foreign warlocks to what Draco guessed was his own realm of influence.

"We represent something greater," Draco started, cryptically, knowing that secrecy was to be their weapon and greatest shield, "an order that seeks to locate and unite with our fellows across the world over."

If anything, this answered seemed to please the orc far more than its intent had been, "I see, then perhaps you could aid me with a bit of a problem…" he said quickly, snatching glances toward the covered door, "time is short, but I need someone to go down to the coast, and enter the cave there named skull rock. Gazz'uz is a fool at times, but he needs to be told specifically that he needs to rally our supporters from around Durotar. I cannot have his idiocy drawing the wrath of the Warchief upon us all…"

Draco smirked, but turned to Blaise. "It seems you have your work cut out for you, but I must return to our leader with a report of what we discovered." The other wizard-in-disguise looked infuriated at being left on his own so quickly, but Draco did not care.

There were signs enough of what was going on here, and he felt it best to return and consult with Lord Nobu'tan about these defectors from their enemies Horde, particularly if he was correct about what he guessed the clan they hailed from was. The symbol of a fiery blade came to mind as he stood to depart. "My friend here will do all he can to assist, meanwhile I must return across the sea, I've been gone too long as it is and our leader would wish an update on what we've discovered here. Good day…" he said, exiting the tent rather quickly.

If there were still agents of the Shadow Council present, allied directly to the Burning Legion, then Nobu'tan would want to know, and caution had to be exercised in how they were to proceed with the allies of their deepest enemies present in the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thrall heard the report from various shadow hunters that patrolled the rooftops of Orgrimmar. While nothing untoward had occurred, the fact that two new warlocks arrived, not matching the markings for any known clan, loyal to the Horde or otherwise, he had his suspicions. That they immediately went to the Cleft of Shadow, and that only one left for the zeppelin tower not long afterward was equally disturbing.

He felt strongly that the Stormreavers were on the move to infiltrate his Horde, perhaps learn more of why Thrall had abandoned the warlock ways and their desires for conquest. That they would meet solely with the warlocks in the Cleft was unsurprising, if these were indeed members of the Shadow Council then they would seek to find Neeru Fireblade, the local leader of the Burning Blade Cult in Orgrimmar. The Warchief felt himself more secure knowing exactly where his enemies were, and allowed the warlock to do as he pleased for the time being, so long as Thrall was aware of it, but the presence of these new orcs in his city was already worrisome.

He knew that the expedition had already passed through the Undercity on their way south, but had not yet had enough time to have arrived near to the Burning Steppes and Blackrock Mountian, nor had there been any word of their failure, so he could only presume that they were still on their way unhindered through the Alliance territory that blocked access to the mountain.

How then did their potential enemies already start to infiltrate Orgrimmar itself? Or was that a plan that they had already put into motion at the same time as the Horde leaders? There were too many questions regarding these developments, and Thrall felt that simply capturing the lone supposed Stormreaver and questioning him would prove less than fruitful.

Therefore he ordered for the orc to be watched from a distance and all his activities and journeying in and around the Horde's lands be monitored and reported back to Thrall, for a decision of the orcs intent to be made at a later time.

Consequently to this, he wondered if Jaina was yet aware of these disturbing events. Blackrock Mountain was nearer to Stormwind than any of the Horde cities, and therefore it was highly likely that the Alliance was infiltrate as well. Perhaps his friend needed to be warned so that she could pass on the message to the leaders of the Alliance there.

Against the threat that a powerful warlock clan like Gul'dan's would pose, there would be no need for the Alliance and Horde to be fighting each other. War could, and would indeed come upon them from outside their own factions. Quickly conveying a small message with everything he knew, and the plans the Horde had made to investigate the mountain, Thrall passed the message on to a trusted Ko'kron that would have it rushed to Theramore via portal in the Valley of Spirits.

By the time he was finished, another of the shadow hunters had returned. "Da other warlock be leavin' da Cleft o' Shadows," he reported, "he be headin' also toward da Zepplin dock, but we be suspectin' dat he be having a different destination…"

Thrall nodded, "Keep your eyes on him wherever he goes. If he leave Durotar via the zepplin, all the better, but if not I want him watched at all times." The troll bowed, before departing to relay the Warchief's command, while Thrall turned to Nazgrel, "Send for adventurers of the Horde to come before me. I have a task for them regarding our dear warlock allies in the Ragefire Chasm, and their leader, Neeru Fireblade."

"Yes, warchief," the chief advisor replied, calling for another of the Ko'kron to add the notice to the message boards out in the city, as well as subtly bring in those who had proved themselves in the past of their valor toward the Horde.

Thrall was silent as these events transpired around him, deep in thought of what the Stormreavers might think they were planning in going to the lead warlocks of Thrall's enemies, right in the middle of his own city, and thinking that they would go unnoticed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Line Break ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise Zabini was not pleased at being left all alone by Draco, especially with the strange orc warlock named Neeru, who clearly was under the impression that they were also full servants of the Legion here to help destroy the orc capital around them.

Just as disturbing was the knowledge that Blaise had, as he agreed and departed for the strange place known as skull rock, that he was being watched and followed. Leave it to Draco and Nobu'tan to underestimate their opponents and forget that within every stronghold, the leader reigned supreme. Naturally information about everyone that came and went would flow up the chain of command, and clearly, as they had gone straight to the one orc that seemed to be known to be against the leadership of this place, they were automatically assumed to be in league with him.

That being said, Blaise also knew that his current actions of aiding the warlock weren't helping in the slightest, but he was clever, and would take whatever opportunity there was to manipulate this to his own ends. That, he believed, was why Nobu'tan had entrusted this work to him, and not Draco, his personal connection to the Malfoys notwithstanding.

Still, it was somewhat demeaning that all suspected him to be far weaker than he was, so be only useful in running errands and delivering messages, and the desire to prove them wrong was high, but Blaise knew better. If he displayed his prowess as a warlock to Neeru, not only would the warlock grow suspicious of his motives and intent, but then those watching him would know his strength, and Blaise doubted that he would be allowed to move freely if the leaders of the city, who clearly despised warlocks and the Fel arts, knew his skill.

Therefore, he humbled himself to the task, and cautiously walked down to the beach where the strange cave lay, even as Neeru had told him it was. The cave from the outset seemed deserted, but from the stench of Fel magic the human in disguise knew far better. Allowing flames to crackle to life in his hand to light the way, Blaise started into the cave, knowing that the eyes that watched him couldn't follow as easily once he was under the shelter of the cavern.

However, that opened up the possibility of other eyes watching him, and these seemed to wish a much crueler fate upon him. Once he passed the corner where it was truly dark outside of his enchanted fire, Blaise concentrated, allowing more of the Fel to leak into the flames, turning the dancing light green with the taint, and signaling to those in the darkness that he was one of them.

At once several orcs stepped forward, their skin grey like the Blackrock orcs, but their markings and tattoos far different, signaling that they were of a far different clan. "Who are you, and why did you come here with our secret sign?" one demanded, but Blaise had been instructed to speak to none but their leader.

"I will speak to none but Gazz'uz," he said clearly, "Neeru wishes an update directly from him."

His knowledge regarding their leaders seemed to mostly relax the grunts in the first chamber, and they directed him down the left most of the three off shooting passages, which sloped downward as it curved around the length of the cave.

Soon enough the chamber opened up to a high ceiling, with a small pool of fresh water, which clearly was aiding these holdouts in their vigil out of the law of their other people here. More warlock acolytes and other grunts were around, as well as their leader, whom Blaise could identify easily by the imp he sported proudly upon his shoulders, the little demon seeming to be almost bored with its lot.

"Gazz'uz," one of the orcs called, gesturing at Blaise, "someone comes bearing the sign."

"Let him approach," the orc leader said, clearly enjoying his position of power. "Why are you here, and what do you want?" he said once Blaise had approached.

"Neeru wants his update, Gazz'uz," Blaise said slowly, making sure that the key words he had been told were used, "but also he has a new order for you and the clan. The Warchief is aware of your activities, and is rallying his forces to destroy you. All of you need to withdraw into the barrens, to Dreadmist Peak, and unite with the others of the Shadow Council there to await further orders."

"What?" the orc said hotly, "he wants us to run and hide like cowards? Let the slave Warchief send his warriors, we shall break them! Everything has gone according to the design, you go and tell Neeru that all is well here, and we will hold out till the end before we flee before our enemies."

"He mentioned that you might have that sentiment…" Blaise replied, quickly drawing a dagger from his robes, and plunging it into the neck of the orc. The blade sunk in deep, and blood flowed quickly from the wound as it was wrenched free. The imp cackled gleefully as it vanished back into the Nether, freed from its binding.

Gazz'uz fell to the ground, shock overriding even the pain of his fatal wound. He lay there gurgling for several moments, even as Blaise turned to face the other warlocks, who had all raised their weapons to defend themselves, as though the disguised human would turn on them all. "You have your orders from Neeru, I suggest you follow them if you wish to avoid Gazz'uz's fate…" he said blandly, before cleaning and sheathing his blade and walking back out of the cave.

From the mad scramble of motion behind him as he departed, Blaise could tell that he would not need to return any time soon. Unfortunately, he had at least three other locations to visit to relay the same message before he was allowed to return to the city. It was somewhat amusing that these orcs couldn't have thought of a better method of concealing their presence rather than just hiding in caves or other natural barriers, but the lack of the utility wizarding magic gave may have been a factor in those efforts.

Resigning himself to the irritation of walking to these other locations in order to complete his task, Blaise set his feet toward the south, and the small outpost known as Razor Hill, near to which lay the second largest grouping of demon-worshipping orcs that he needed to contact.

While Blaise personally found little worth in these orcs, he knew that Nobu'tan inevitable goal was the complete destruction of those warlocks that truly served the Burning Legion, and the unification of all those who would willingly oppose them, so that they could form a great army of warlocks and their allies, who would be more than prepared to face off against the Legion and whatever else that they sent to try and destroy this world.

It was still odd that the young leader cared more for this world and saving it than he had for the world of his birth, but Blaise had to admit, this world had a charm about it that far exceeded the old days on earth, or event the brief stint that they had had on the world of the Legion as they passed from one portal to another in arriving here.

Magic seemed far more alive on this world of Azeroth, vibrant and active, rather than the dusty stale thing it had been back on earth. And for what difference it made, Blaise was willing to do whatever it took to exact vengeance on the demons that had destroyed his world. True, he had willingly sacrificed it alongside Nobu'tan, to travel here, but their leader had clearly stated and explained that his goal had always been, from the moment of learning of his old Master's death at the hands of the Legion, to return to the place that the demons most desired, and rally the defense therein to drive back and inevitably destroy the Legion utterly.

A mad desire, yes, but Blaise liked those sorts of crazed stunts, almost to the point of having been placed in Gryffindor himself so long ago. If there was a wickedly insane idea that would also give him the revenge he sought, then pretending to work for the demons a bit longer was worth it. Blaise just hoped that he had first crack at some particular demons that had single handedly devastated the isle of Britain, in remembrance of his mother, who had been left behind.


End file.
